


Reader Kinktober 2018

by hostilewitness



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Begging, Biting, F/M, Formalwear, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, Intercrural Sex, Kinktober 2018, Licking, Masks, Masochism, Masturbation, Multi, Muscles, Object Insertion, Pegging, Praise Kink, Role Reversal, Sadism, Sadomasochism, Sensory Deprivation, Spanking, Sthenolagnia, Uniforms, distention, distracted sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-08-01 05:11:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 73,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16278368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostilewitness/pseuds/hostilewitness
Summary: Additional tags/warnings/notes are found in the beginning of each chapter and the index.





	1. Index

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for opening my first attempt at fan fiction/smut, I know I still have a lot to work on but I appreciate you taking the time to read mine! :)  
> If you're sensitive to something specific I wanted to include a little context of each story here, in case you want to skip it. If you have something you need tagged please PM/comment me telling me the tag and I will add it!

*** Please know the S76/Jack Morrison fics are all with a female reader. These were written before the announcement of his sexuality. 

1\. Masks, **Gabriel Reyes**. Takes place while Overwatch is still operating, coworker dynamic, alcohol mention. *Can be read as a stand alone, but was written as sequel to Uniforms (~4000)  
2\. Begging, **Jesse McCree**. No particular context/warnings. (~1200)  
3\. Sensory deprivation (sight), **Hanzo Shimada**. No particular context, alcohol mention/use. (~3100)   
4\. Spanking, **Jack Morrison**. Takes place while Overwatch is still operating, agent/commander dynamic. (~1700)   
5\. Sadomasochism, **Reaper**. Takes place after the fall of Overwatch, needle mention/use, piercings. *Prequel of Branding (~6000)  
6. Biting,  **Genji Shimada**. Takes place while Overwatch is still operating/Blackwatch Genji, grieving.  (~1800)  
7\. Praise, **Reinhardt Wilhelm**. Takes place while Reinhardt is still with the Crusaders, no warnings. (~1600)  
8\. Hate fucking, **Jack Morrison**. Takes place while Overwatch is still operating, agent/commander dynamic, alcohol mention/use. (~7300)   
9\. Sthenolagnia (strength, muscles), **Gabriel Reyes & Jesse McCree**. Takes place while Overwatch/Blackwatch is still operating, coworker dynamic. (~5700)  
10\. Hair Pulling, **Lúcio Correia dos Santos**. No warnings. (~850)  
11\. Object Insertion, **Reinhardt Wilhelm**. Takes place while Overwatch is still operating, agent/lieutenant dynamic, no warnings. (~2100)  
12\. Licking, **Hanzo Shimada**. Takes place before Overwatch, young Hanzo. (~6700)  
13\. Distracted Sex, **Reaper**. Takes place after the fall of Overwatch, no warnings. (~1400)  
14\. Distention, **Soldier 76**. Takes place before Overwatch (SEP), agent/agent dynamic, mention of needles/medical things. (~3600)  
15\. Uniforms, **Gabriel Reyes**. Takes place while Overwatch is still operating, coworker dynamic. *Can be read as a stand alone, but was written as a prequel to Masks (~2200)  
16. Frottage,  **Jesse McCree**. Takes place while Overwatch is still operating, agent/agent dynamic. (~2500)  
17. Masturbation,  **Jack Morrison**. Takes place while Overwatch is still operating, coworker dynamic. (~4400)   
18\. Role Reversal, **Gabriel Reyes**. Takes place while Overwatch is still operating, agent/commander dynamic. (~1600)  
19\. Formal Wear,  **Amélie & Gérard Lacroix**. Takes place while Overwatch is still operating, coworker dynamic, alcohol mention. (~6300)  
20\. Hot Dogging/Intercrual, **Hanzo Shimada**. No particular context, alcohol mention/use. (~850)  
21\.  Branding, **Reaper**. Takes place after the fall of Overwatch, warnings for pain associated with sexual acts. *Sequel of Sadomasochism (~4600)  
22\. Hand jobs,  **Jesse McCree**. Takes place while Overwatch/Blackwatch is still operating, coworker dynamic. (~640)   
23\. Scars,  **Soldier 76**. Takes place after the fall of Overwatch, no warnings. (~1600)  
~~24. Bath, **Genji Shimada**. ~~  
~~25\. Olfactophilia (Scent), **Reinhardt Wilhelm**. ~~  
~~26\. Smiles/laughter, **Jesse McCree**. ~~  
~~27. Against A Wall, **Gabriel Reyes**. ~~  
~~28\. Humiliation, **Hanzo Shimada**. ~~  
~~29\. Sleepy Sex, **Jack Morrison.**~~  
~~30\. Gagging, **Reaper**. ~~  
~~31. Nothing planned~~

 

My apologizes to anyone waiting for remaining days 24-31. I'm marking this as complete because I do not plan on completing the rest and have been struggling to do so since the last update. I'm choosing to focus instead on my other fics! Thanks for understanding! <3  

 


	2. Masks, Gabriel Reyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: While Overwatch is operating  
> Notes: Coworker dynamic, alcohol mention
> 
> ** I have added the prequel to this one! Chapter 16 (Uniforms, Gabriel Reyes) can be read as either the prequel to this, or as a stand alone **

Every year headquarters throws an official holiday party where the lowest ranks and the highest ranks wine and dine, celebrating the years triumphs… but everyone knows it's just an excuse to get drunk and laid. Agents, officers, commanders, and the like would gear up for the event months before in anticipation. The murmurings of excitement though the mess hall were extra loud this year because of the theme. This year, it was a masquerade.

* * *

 

Two days before the party you found yourself in the practice range perfecting your blocking techniques with your team, when you noticed the Blackwatch Commander leaning in the door frame watching. Your usual interactions with him were mostly greetings in hallways or passing by between missions, and quick conversations about how your team is handling things. But, there was something about the way he looked at you, the way he smirked at you in meetings, or how his eyes lingered on you a little too long in the shooting range. It made your ears burn, and your palms sweat. The thought of what that body of his would do to you kept you up at night, grinding into your hand with thoughts running wild.

And then there he was, staring- you it felt like his eyes were burning into your soul. Blush crept up to your cheeks and you quickly turned in an attempt to ignore the heat you felt.

“Commander Reyes!” Your teammate shouted in fake surprise after she watched you turn away. “Please come in, we’ve _dying_ to get an expert opinion on our form.” She waved her hands for him to come over while flashing you a mischievous grin. God, you should have never admitted to her that you maybe, might have a small almost definitely non-existent crush on the Blackwatch commander. You huffed, making a mental note to never tell her anything, ever again.

“Happy to help.” He walked in and stood towards your teammate, body moving into an attack position.

“You know," She paused, dramatically bringing her finger to her to her chin, "I actually think it might help more if we see you practice with her.” Pointing at you, his eyes moved up your body.

“Well then,” He adjusted to face you. “When you’re ready?”

Carefully you moved and prepared for blocking any hits. Your teammates stopped all their own training to watch, rarely getting a chance to see a high ranking commander practice with anyone. The commanders hits began slowly, allowing you to block easily, but his movement picked up quickly becoming a frenzy for you both blocking and dodging shots.

The whole ordeal lasted maybe five minutes, but with all those eyes on you, it felt like it lasted hours. In his final move, Reyes swept beneath you, gripping both arms around your waist and mowing you to ground. He made sure you both landed as softly as possible, with his hands and forearms taking the brunt of the force against the floor. His body now on top of yours, face inches away, you could see distressed body language of your teammates above you thinking this gigantic man must have crushed you on the landing.

“Your form could use some work.” The commander grunted, moving his arms out from underneath you. “You’re too stiff.” You could tell he was holding his hips away from you, but a brush with something hard between his legs sent electricity through your body.

Lightly and out of sight of your teammates, his fingers trailed down your arm until they reached your hand, he gripped it and helped you up off the floor purposefully facing his body away from the others. Your face was bright red and heart pounding in your ears. Your hand lingered in his a few moments too long, until you quickly retracted your arm to your side and finally released a breath you realized you had been holding in. His communicator beeped loudly in his pocket and he seemed to also release a breath of relief. With a glance at it he turned to leave, and called out to the team.

“I’ll send some of my Blackwatch agents to practice with. They should be able to help everyone.” Just as he reached the door he turned back to the room. “I expect you all will be at the party this weekend?” This sounded more an order than a question, his dark eyes clearly aimed at you. You nodded your head while everyone else excitedly began affirming they would be there. He nodded his head back and turned out the door.

* * *

 

The training room incident ran through your mind every time you were alone for the next two days. You tried to convince yourself that your mind was just playing tricks on you, that there was no way he was hard, no way you saw a hint of blush when he helped you up off the floor. When you tried to sleep your mind ran rampant with thoughts of him, fantasies of training rooms, meeting rooms, supply closets- no place safe from where you'd let him take you.

The day of of masquerade, you tucked your dirty thoughts away long enough to look presentable, taking a little more time to get ready than you intended to. You arrived fashionably late about an hour after the party started, alone, but made your way to a table where some of your teammates were sitting, already sweaty from dancing and drinking.

“Look at you!” Shouted one of the more inebriated members, standing up to get a better look at you. “All sexy with your black dress and your-” She motioned in an overly sexy charade of the slit on your dress that stopped about an inch from your hip bone on your right leg. The bottom of your dress fluttered with movement, but standing still you could hide the high-cut opening. “And your mask!” With an over-exaggeration of jazz hands around her face she drunkenly waved her fingers in front of her eyes, her attempt at describing your black winged mask. The pointed tips hung off the sides of your face blocking your peripheral vision, the eye holes and mask itself outlined with delicate black jewels, and if anyone looked hard enough they would see matte black lace layered on top of the black crushed velvet beneath. You laughed and rolled your eyes, but pretended to curtsy showing off your outfit as a thank you. She leaned in close to you, in a not-so-subtle whisper. “Hot Commander is already here.” She snorted, “And my guess is he’s looking for a certain, _someone_.” Her pointer finger circling dramatically around your face.  

“Please, like he would ever be looking for _me_.” You stated with clear uncertainty, now nervously glancing around. 

Then, just like that, across the room you knew you saw him from the back of his head. His strong body covered in a sleek black suit lingered above the others in the crowd. He must have felt you staring, as he turned to face you. You were not met with his face however, instead he was wearing a mask that covered it completely. His mask was gold and black, with horns twisting out from the top; elegant, and scary. Immediately he stopped whatever conversation he was having and headed your way.

“Good evening." You could hear a smile on lips, even under the mask. "I’m glad to see you here.” 

“You as well Commander Reyes, and what a gorgeous mask.” You smiled back at him.

“Thank you." He paused, sounding a little nervous. "Would you be shocked if I told you I made it myself?” Surprise lit up your face.

“I didn’t know you were so creative!” You leaned in to inspect it. The eyes were covered in a black fabric making it impossible to see where he was looking. It had gold flakes spotted throughout, and gold lines drawing an animals skull, leading to the solid gold twisted horns above. “It’s beautiful!”

“You look quite beautiful yourself.” You leaned back from him, embarrassed by the sudden blunt comment.

“Thank you, Commander Reyes.” Pink across your cheeks you looked at him, a beat passed and you felt the same way you felt before when he was holding your hand in the training room. “Commander,” You started with a wind of confidence. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble... I’d appreciate a dance with you later tonight.” He was quiet for a moment too long, you thought. _Shit_ , maybe that was too bold. You mentally face palmed, you must have read the signs wrong: mistaken his stares during meetings, mistaken his causal conversation as flirtation- 

“That sounds wonderful.” You could hear the excitement in his voice. “I have a few people I need to greet, then I’ll come take you to the dance floor?”

You nodded your head, biting your lip trying to hide a smile, “I’ll see you then.” You couldn't stop it, you let out a smile that beamed at him, his mask nodding back at you he turned to leave. You watched him wring his hands then pump a fist in front of him as a small gesture of satisfaction.  

* * *

 

It had been at least an hour you waited. In that time you bounced around with some of your team members on the dance floor only leaving when the DJ switched to slow songs, and were now sat at your groups table snacking on the hors d'oeuvres. Your drunken teammate was badgering you about your interaction with the commander earlier, going on and on about how hot the two of you are together, joking that you must have wore all black to get the Blackwatch Commanders attention, dramatically weaving stories about what your future would look like with him. You were moments from snapping at her to shut up, when a large hand was gently placed on your shoulder. Reyes helped you to your feet and lead you toward the dance floor, with a hand placed at the small of your back. As you neared you realized they were still playing slow songs, the only people occupying the floor were couples and one funny guy dancing with his arms around himself for the amusement of his friends.

Once on the floor, he faced you and gently placed one hand on your hip and laced your fingers with his in the other. It was awkward, at first. Swaying there not saying anything, you stayed stiff getting closer to him until your bodies were touching, your face leaning into his chest. He unlaced your fingers and placed a hand at the small of your back again, while you wrapped your arm around his midsection tightly. He smelled like expensive cologne and fresh laundry.

A couple songs passed neither of you saying anything, his thumb rubbing against your back as he held you close. Something about being in his arms was so natural, so comforting.   

“Thank you for dancing with me Commander.” You mumbled into him. A sudden realization hit you that your chest had been rubbing into his midsection, and he was trying harder to control his breathing, a hard bump forming in the front of his pants. Your body went rigid again. You heard a laugh bubble up through his chest.

“See? You do need to loosen up. Even dancing with me you’re still on guard.” His voice was wavering. You looked up at him, not sure what you were expecting when you only saw the mask looking back at you. You took a deep breath and tried to relax your shoulders, unsuccessfully releasing any stress from your muscles. He leaned closer to your ear. “Do I make you nervous?” His question had a bite to it, something that gave you goosebumps when he moved his hands to your shoulders rolling with his thumbs. You had stopped swaying to the music, your body and face were burning. You realized your hands had slid onto his biceps, feeling his muscles tensing with every move- there was a tension budding between you two that you couldn't explain.   

“I-” You quickly took your hands away. “I think I need some air.” Fanning your face then putting your hands on your hips as an exaggerated show of over overheating, you turned on your heels and headed towards a door in the back. If you didn't leave now, you were sure you were going to rip that mask off his face and climb onto him right there on the dance floor. Dumbfounded, the commander stayed in place and watched as you disappeared through the crowd.  

* * *

 

Out the door was a large balcony, lit only by the glittering lights of the cityscape in the distance. You could see your breath linger in the air, the chill biting at your nose. Luckily there was no one else out here to see you like this, lusting after the Blackwatch commander. You placed your back against the wall tensing at the cold pressed to your skin, but relieved to finally have a little weight off your heels. You rolled your head back closing your eyes breathing in the crisp air, only hearing the faint sound of dance music from inside and your heart pounding.

After a few quiet moments the door opened, letting out the beating of the music and roaring laughter. You didn’t open your eyes to see who it was, just by the thudding footsteps you already knew. You felt his warmth come close to you. Hearing movement and breathing through his mask and you cracked open an eye to see Reyes removing his suit jacket, holding it open towards you waiting for your permission. Wordlessly you leaned forward just enough for him to slip it over your shoulders, and once around you, you gripped the edges closed feeling his body heat still warming the inside of the jacket.

“Thank you.” You looked down, the view of the floor obscured by your mask.

“It’s too cold to be out here like that.” He gestured, vaguely, to your entire body.

“I don’t mind the cold.” You leaned your head back on the wall again and shifted your legs, accidentally exposing your right thigh to the cool air then quickly attempted to cover it again with your dress. Reyes cleared his throat, purposing facing his mask away from your leg.

“I didn’t mean to scare you away." His voice was still wavering, usual confidence met with uncertainty. "I will walk away right now, if this is not what you want.”

“This is _absolutely_ what I want.” Your chest heaved, unable to hide the lust you were feeling towards the commander. Your breath, hot and heavy clouded in the air between you. Through the dim lighting you could still see the bulge at the front of his pants. He must have been looking in your eyes right then, as his hand then moved to cover himself.  

“Is this what you want, _right now_?” His voice was low, almost dangerous sounding. Letting go of the suit jacket with one hand you placed your palm on his abdomen, the tips of your fingers slipping into the area between the buttons of his shirt. Timidly you felt his hard abs against your fingertips and sighed, his body seeming to relax with the small show of affection. He closed in on you, fingers flicked open the fabric to your dress, hand landing on the front of your thigh. A moaned escaped from you as his hand continued the movement, sliding up from your thigh to your hip. Fingers played with the highest point on the V hem of your dress, testing the limits. Your breathing hitched, and his hand stopped. You looked into the shadows of his mask where his eyes would be, unsure if he was looking at your face, or elsewhere.

Your voice was a whisper, begging. "This is what I want,  _right now._ "

He towered above your body, curled around protecting you from the outside elements and from any potential onlookers should they open the door. Fingers under your dress trailed from your hip to the outline of your panties. He was slow, letting your body shiver from both the cold and his touch. His hand dipped low and he moaned a deep, guttural moan when he reached your most sensitive area, satisfied with the way he made your body react. Two fingers teased at your folds from outside the fabric, making your face burn, mouth opening on the verge of a gasp. His masked forehead leaned down to meet yours, through it you could hear his breathing becoming labored with lust. His other hand moved to your hip, gripping it tightly enough that it momentarily shocked you, inhaling the gasp.

“Sorry.” He breathed out, loosening his grip slightly. The fingers at your folds teased you, brushing over your folds, up and down. He put more pressure on you, fabric now wet against the skin of your entrance. He glided over your swollen clit, enough to make your body jerk, but not enough to give you the stimulation you were craving. His fingers felt for your hole, pushing in gently though the fabric. You arched your back against him, aching for more. Through your panties his fingertips rocked in and out of you, pushing the limits of how far the fabric would let him through. The impatient noises you made encouraged him. Rushing his fingers he moved to the side hooking on the edges of your panties, moving them out of the way to feel your heat.

The length of his middle finger played with the outside of your lips, then spun quick small circles on your clit. Your hand on his abdomen plunged downwards feeling the bulge in his dress pants. His hips ground into your palm, and you felt him pulse with need. A digit stuffed into you, momentarily blurring your vision. You tried to steady your breathing as he pushed in and out. Savoring every moment, he teased with torturous slow movements until a low whine came from you. While pumping you like this, his thumb found your clit, pressure building as he rubbed against it. Your mouth was agape ahh-ing at every trust into you, only silencing when you bit your lip moaning against his chest. His finger swirled in you, finally hitting a spot that made you see white. Abandoning his methodically slow caresses from before, he began to pump fast, feeling your inner walls respond in time with your panting, rubbing against your g spot with each movement.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” His whisper muffled from the mask was almost inaudible under your noises. He slipped another finger in you, continuing to play against your clit with his thumb. “Can’t stop thinking about all the things I want to do to you.” His voice getting desperate, hitching with each twitch of your hips. Your fingers tightened around his bulge squeezing and rubbing him through his pants. He was so hard against your palm and you desperately tried to give him some sort of stimulation. Clumsily your hand moved around his belt attempting to undo the buckle, you could feel his dick twitching with every brush against it. After a few unsuccessful attempts at his buckle you gave up in a fit of flustered frustration, and settled with pushing up the edge of his shirt up to run your hand along his abs again.

His hand on your hip moved, you thought to his belt to help you, but instead he pushed his mask up just enough to expose his mouth. He snaked his fingers into the back of your hair, tangling as he deeply kissed you, smiling as he enjoyed you moaning against his lips. Your heart almost flew out of your chest, having your countless fantasies about the commander realized. The way his lips crashed on yours was needy, finally bubbling repressed feelings to the surface. His fingers scissored in you, running against your walls, thumb rolling against your clit. The hand on the back of your head was locked onto you, his mouth feverishly kissing yours, tongues now playing against the other hot and wet. He deepened the kiss, further bringing you into his lust, your lips swelling from all the contact, cheeks bearing the pain of your mask crushing into them. For you this was all becoming too much, your body moved with the thrusting of his fingers, his suit jacket fell to the ground off your shoulders. Your other arm reached up around his neck holding him closer to you, and you felt the sweat beading on the back of his neck in his curls. 

“Gabriel!” His name left your lungs sharply. He smiled against you, stomach filled with butterflies at you shouting his first name, he didn't even realize you knew it. You babbled incoherently against him for a moment, letting him know you were close.

Encouraged, he spread your legs just a little wider to get a deeper angle, plunging into you harder and rapidly rolling against your clit. You hooked your right leg around his hip, his arm pinned between the two of you. Your muscles began twitching, he kissed you until you no longer closed your lips for him, his lips moving to sloppily kiss at your cheek and neck. Pussy spasming around his fingers, you clamped down on him forcing him to stop pumping and instead focus all efforts on the final desperate shaking on your clit. You flexed your fingers, body fully giving into his, a groan escaping from you as you saw stars from your orgasm.

His fingers stayed in you, slowing scissoring out as your body came down allowing them to move again. Once your breathing regulated, you squeezed the back of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair. His fingers were removed from you, with involuntary twitches as he left. He moved your panties back in place, and grazed his hand along your leg before bringing it out from your dress feeling how wet you had become now with a mess covering your inner thighs.

Your hand still lingered on his abs, and slowly grazed down to feel his bulge again. You let out a satisfied _mmm_ as you ran your hand along his length. With a clearer mind, you now realized how large he was, the girth you gripped easily larger than your wrist. He let out a small laugh, and you realized you must have been making a shocked face. Smirking, he pushed his mask back down over his lips cutting off the clouds from his heavy huffs of air. 

“I want to continue this.” He moved your hand away, then reached down, adjusting himself to make the bulge less obvious. “But not here.” The faint sound of music and laughter from inside came back to you, grounding you back to party. “Would you-” He paused, his usual commanding voice traded for a gentler one again “Come with me, to my room?” You nodded and smiled, finally feeling the cold again. Legs feeling like jelly as you pushed yourself off the wall and straightened out your dress. He leaned over, grabbing his suit jacket from the ground. Holding it open as another invitation for you to warm yourself, you shook your head waving your hand at the jacket.

"You may want to use that to..." Your eyes trailed down to the front of his pants, his erection less obvious than before, but still obvious. "Cover yourself." He chuckled and nodded, folding it and draping it over his arm moving to cover his crotch. He offered you his other arm as balance to lead you back inside. You placed a hand against his forearm and walked through the door hoping no one would notice the state of you. Luckily at this point most people are dancing, or drunk, or both. Through the dimly lit room the two of you moved with red cheeks, clinging around the walls and out the exit heading to the commander's quarters. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it really a company holiday party if someone isn't getting fingered? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
> Thanks for reading my first ever attempt at smut- I've been absolutely terrified to post anything because I've never written fan fiction before and I know that I have a lot of cliches. I'm still trying to figure out my style, thanks for being patient with me. <3


	3. Begging, Jesse McCree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: No particular context, feel feel to imagine this takes place when/where ever  
> Notes: Short and sweet, this one is nothing but smut! :)

You sat patiently on the end of the bed, arms propping you up from behind, legs crossed. Jesse stood across the room, removing his boots and hat placing them next to an armchair, sneaking glances at you. You watched intently, still as he rolled up his sleeves and went to unbutton the collar of his shirt.

  
“C’mon sugar. I’m a patient man, but you’ve been teasin’ me all day. Cut a man a break.” His shirt now fully opened with dark chest hair leading a trail down, he pushed his sleeves up to his elbows.

   
“I think I need a little more convincing…” Your eyes wandered, purposely looking away from him, the sides of your lips twisting upwards. Jesse groaned, rolling his head back and moving his hand to tug at the growing bulge in his pants. Crossing the room, he came to a stop at your feet, dropping softly to his knees. He ran his hands up your clothed legs, gently pushing at your knee moving to uncross them. He leaned in closer, face rubbing against the inside of your thigh.

  
“Please darlin’ I need this, need you.” His hands glided up to grip at your hips. You ran a hand through his hair, giving a few friendly tugs. 

  
“I’m going to need a little more than that, handsome.” You brushed your fingers down his chin and across his parted lips, then back to his hair again. His body kneeling between your open legs, he dropped a hand to palm the front of his pants again, his other still gripping your hip. He moaned into your lap, and you continued to play through his locks, listening to him fumble with his belt and unzipping his pants. He kissed up and down your thighs, hooking his robotic fingers into the hem of the pants at your hip, fully gripping himself now underneath his boxers. 

"Want you so bad." You almost couldn't hear him, buried in your lap panting as he pumped himself.

He rolled his face against your thigh, then rested atop your thigh, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut. You felt his body rock against you with every thrust from his fist, while his metal hand left the hem of your pants to massage at your inner thigh. You tugged his hair again forcing him to look up at you.

“Hmm, I don’t think you’ve been patient enough.” You moved a foot between his legs, gently pushing up on his groin getting him to stand. Fist beneath fabric he stared down at you taking deep shaky breaths. “Over there.” You stated, head nodding towards the armchair. Jesse stepped out of his pants, now pooled on the floor and turned to cross the room again. You removed your uniform jacket, revealing a low cut top. He lowered himself on the chair, watching you and now slowly pumping himself. “Tell me what you want. And please-” You stood, pausing to remove your own pants. “Make it convincing.” You smiled, sitting back on the edge of the bed now only in the shirt and panties, leaving your legs open for his view. The cowboy sighed, body tensing, metal fingers digging into the arm of the chair.

  
“I’m so hard for you darlin’.” Jesse let out a deep growl. “I need those fingers wrapped around me, mouth open and waitin’. My god, I love those lips, love that tongue.” You ran your fingers gently outside your panties, letting him soak in the view.  
“I want you bent over that bed, ass in the air, you spreadin’ those pretty cheeks for me. Fuck, sweetheart. I want to feel how wet you are.” His face became more dazed, hand sped up as his boxers pushed lower and his full girth was released.

“Want you on top of me, screamin’ my name. Want that perfect pussy pumping this dick. Want those gorgeous tits in my face. Fuck I need you here baby, I need to feel your nails digging into me. Need those noises you make when you're fuckin’ yourself on me.” Your back arched and you rolled a finger against your swollen clit. Jesse closed his eyes, head rolling back resting on the chair, already dangerously close to cumming just from the sight of you touching yourself. 

  
“Please, I need anything. I'll take whatever you want to give. I just need you. Need you to touch me.” His voice was getting breathy and desperate. “Darlin’ please. I want you right here with me.” Eyes still closed he didn't see you get up and place yourself between his knees on the floor. Gently you wrapped your hand around his, and pumped with him, eyes watching his twisted face carefully.

  
“Is this what you want?” Your other hand reaching up to run though his chest hair, following the trail all the way down, meeting the hand wrapped around his. He released his own grip allowing you to take over with both your hands, his body seeming to relax just a little.

  
“Yes, _ohhhh honey_.” He moaned, moving his hips in time with your hands. You pumped him, keeping the fast pace he had worked himself up to. His cock was twitching with need, small droplets on the end. He wove his fingers through your hair, and pulled your head a little closer to him.

“Please.” His hips rolled upwards, tip brushing against your chin. “Need that pretty mouth. Want to hear you chokin’ on me.”

You dropped a hand to his balls, the other back up to hold on to his hip. Your tongue licked his length, bottom to top and stopped to swirl circles around the tip. You could feel his pulse through his cock, he really had already worked himself up and was close.

As much as he hated to admit it, he loved it when you teased him like this. You opened your mouth, tongue pressed to the top of his cock, eyes open and waiting for him to look down. When he lifted his head and eyes met yours you smiled, opening wider and lowering your lips on him. Pace immediately quick as you bobbed up and down, creating suction and licking his length as you did. He moaned gripping the back of your head harder, you made throaty noises when you reached your limit but continued going back for more.

“Fuck sweetheart I'm not gonna last if you keep workin’ me like that.” He gasped, your hand now gently rolling his balls. You could feel his body rippling with pleasure. “Want you to keep doin’ exactly what you're doing, I'm so close darlin’.” His abdomen squeezed, fingers pulling your hair then pushing your head further down on him. “I’m-” He groaned, eyes squeezing shut, thick and salty cum rushing into your mouth. Spurts continued as you slowly moved your mouth up his twitching shaft, hand moving to pump him carefully in the final moments of his orgasm. Opening your mouth, cum dripped onto him and down your chin onto your chest. You took deep breaths now able to breathe properly again. He smoothed out your hair and tiled your chin up at him admiring the mess he made across your face. “You always make it worth the wait, sugar.”


	4. Sensory deprivation, Hanzo Shimada

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: No particular context, feel feel to imagine this takes place when/where ever  
> Notes: Alcohol mention/use, reader has medium/long hair (enough to be put in a ponytail), eating (nonsexual)

This hotel was gorgeous, lavish in a way you'd never experienced before. You were surprised Hanzo wanted to meet here this time. Even more so, to find out that he had already checked in and keys were waiting for you at the front desk. You brought with you a small pack that you used when traveling, nothing fancy. Definitely not the typical clientele for this hotel.

When you entered the room, you noticed his luggage and bow piled neatly in a closet against the wall, sliding door left open only slightly. It was a posh, romantic kind of room, with dark colors and woods scattered across the furniture, deep greens and purples as the accent colors in modern paintings and across the luxurious bed spread. A note was left for you on a desk against the wall, waiting on delicate stationary:

  
Please make yourself comfortable, strawberries and wine are waiting for you in the fridge if you wish. There is a robe left for you in the bathroom.  
Wrap the belt around your eyes, make sure you can not see anything. It is up to you if you wish to keep the robe on or not. Put your hair up. Sit anywhere you feel and wait for me.  
I will be back anytime between 10-12.  
Do not touch yourself.  
_HS_

You blushed. This was certainly more structured than Hanzo has ever been with you. All the times before you would meet him at a seedy motel for maybe an hour then be separated from each other for months at a time again, both of you working around your mercenary contracts. Contemplating about what brought him to this you opened the mini fridge, met with what he described, 2 pinot grigio bottles and plated strawberries. You brought a bottle and the plate out, noticing behind them were also two dark chocolate truffles packaged in clear boxes with small gold ribbons wrapped around them. His note didn’t mention them. You decided to leave those be, for now nibbling the fruit and pouring yourself a drink, lifting the bottle to examine the label. You raised your eyebrows recognizing the brand, he left you with some _pretty damn expensive_ wine.

  
Glancing at the clock you checked the time, 8:45. Strawberry in one hand, glass in the other you made your way to the bathroom to see the robe he left you. Against the wall opposite the door, hanging on a thin wood hanger was a navy and gold silk robe. Mostly navy colored, the belt and robe itself were streaked with gold lines in all different directions. Shocked at this sudden show of wealth from Hanzo, you rinsed your hands before handling it not wanting to soil it immediately. You removed your clothing carefully, folding each article and setting them on a stool in the corner. Pulling the robe from the hanger, it glided onto your skin cool and smooth. Bell sleeves hung loose past your hands, the bottom of the robe reaching mid thigh. The belt looped lazily, high on the waist and without it the robe would clearly hang completely open.

For now you pulled the robe closed and tied the belt into a small knot, picking up your glass and the strawberry plate, heading out the bathroom towards the floor to ceiling window overlooking the city. Through the window you could see a small balcony. You opened the door and sat on a luxurious lounger, propping your legs up on the side table and sipping the wine while watching the evening city lights coming to life. You stayed there a while, soaking in the view getting a little tipsy, enjoying the fruit treat he left you.

You decided around 9:50 to start getting ready for him, not wanting to face consequences of not following Hanzo’s rules. Heading back in, you pressed a button on the wall closing the windows curtains, blocking the outside world completely and clicked on the TV to a music channel, lowering the volume enough to not be distracting. You pulled a hair tie from your bag, putting your hair in a high ponytail. Then undoing the knot and pulling the sash around your waist, the robe fluttered open leaving it hanging on you. You decided to pull a chair from the desk to the middle of the room, positioning it to face the door. Sitting gently in the chair, you took a deep breath and began to wrap the belt around your eyes ensuring all light was blocked out, tying it tightly against the back of your head. Knowing it was close to 10pm you patiently waited, nervous about what was to come with your sometimes lover.

* * *

 

  
It felt like hours you waited. Every step through the hallway heightened, every opening door near yours drawing higher anticipation. After waiting  _forever_ , you thought he must be doing this just to torture you. Your hands pushed down your thighs, gripping your knees desperate for some sort of stimulation. More waiting left your heart racing, you finally caved lifting the blind peeking at the clock. 11:38, he only had two minutes before he was late. Groaning you pushed the belt back over your eyes. The music from the TV played softly in the background, one more song, then another, and another and another. You’re body was beginning to tense, eyes still blinded you knew it was well past the time he was supposed to be here, the thought crept into your mind that perhaps he was doing this just to be cruel and never intended to show up in the first place.

  
Right when you thought about ripping the sash off and heading straight into the plush bed for the night, the door clicked open. You sucked in a breath in anticipation, trying desperately to hear his footsteps as he entered the room. It was to no avail, you knew the archer had learned to be light on his feet, and after the door closed shut it was a few moments before you finally heard him. You fiddled with your hands in your lap. 

  
“Hmm…” A noise of judgement came from in front of you. Your breath was shaky, nervous not knowing if he approved of the view in front of him. His muted shuffling stopped in front of you, and he laid a hand on your shoulder squeezing.  
You lifted your head towards where you assumed his face would be and brought a hand up to meet him, resting it on his forearm.

“I’ve been waiting a long time.” You heard him scoff in response as his hand caressed the curve from your shoulder up to your neck, coming to a rest at the base of your chin. Your dropped your hand back into your lap waiting for him to make another move.

  
“Impatient?” He checked the sash tied around your eyes.

  
“Maybe, a little.” You brought both hands up, finding his body and running them over the archers sides. A quiet chuckle left him as your hands grew bolder traveling towards the button of his pants. A passive thought traveled through you that he must be wearing a suit, instead of his usual mercenary outfit.

  
Light touches suddenly around your nipples frightened you, causing you to gasp as you drew your hands away from him, and your body sunk into the back of the chair. The gentle fingers on your nipples became rougher, moving from feather light touches around the tips to full hands grabbing and squeezing your breasts. Your head tilted back, releasing a whine of approval. He pinched and tweaked at your nipples, movements becoming more unhinged as you heard his breathing becoming heavier. You lifted your head and grabbed one of his hands, bringing his fingers to your lips. Your tongue swirled on his pointer and middle fingertips, lips wrapping around the ends. Lightly, you sucked them in running your tongue around them. His other hand left your breast, and you heard the sound of a zipper lowering.

  
He pulled his fingers from your mouth, you left it open for him tongue hanging out past your lips. The tip of your tongue was met with velvety flesh, he pushed into your mouth and you realized he was already hard. He went slowly, letting his full length enter your mouth filling you and hitting the back of your throat. You let out a heavy breath, air mostly pushing out through your nose.

Content that you had adjusted to his size, he began to pump carefully in and out, your lips squeezing around him. He mumbled in Japanese, now grabbing the base of your ponytail guiding you with his strokes. You relaxed your jaw, allowing him to take full advantage as he sped up swelling further into your mouth. When he hilted in you, you could feel fabric against your chin, he must have been a hurry to if he didn’t even get his clothes off before starting. His grip on your hair now pulling and pushing in time with his thrusts, Hanzo grunted out.

“You may touch yourself.” Mouth busy with him, you widened your legs and shoved a hand between them. You hadn’t realized how wet you already were, liquid coating your upper thighs and pooling beneath you on the chair. You immediately went between your folds, teasing your hole with your middle finger, moaning around him. You pumped the digit in yourself frenzied for more stimulation, quickly adding a second finger with your hips rolling against your hand. Hanzo was getting rougher, messier with your mouth, eliciting lewd sounds as you choked on his cock. He pulled your mouth off him, jerking your head back with your hair. You gasped for air, feeling your spit string out with him.

Fingers continuing in you, Hanzo bent down and wrapped his arms around your shoulders forcing you to stand, ripping your hand out you when you were fully up. Still sightless, he helped you get where he wanted you to be by twisting your arm until you turned your whole body, now facing the chair back to Hanzo. Gripping the back of your thigh he placed your knee on the chair and then pushed your back down, prominently displaying your ass. The back of the robe slid to your shoulders, and you steadied your hands on the back and seat of the chair to keep your balance. Roughly he shoved his fingers into you, forcing your back to arch from the sudden touch. His other hand pulled your hair, jerking your head backwards.

  
He continued to work you, adding a third finger. Your moans needy, verging on whining he let go of your hair letting your head drop, hand now squeezing your ass. He pulled his fingers out, wiping them on you. You could feel his frenzied movement as he lined himself up to your entrance. Very different from how he initially treated your mouth, he rammed into you sliding easily and filling you. He groaned out your name, gripping your ass like his life depended on it. He set a hard and fast pace, moving his hands to handle your hips using them to bring you down harder on him. He was driving into you with such force that your moans were silenced in your throat, your pussy pulsing around him encouraging him on. He went on like this for quite a while, moving his hands from your hips, then reaching beneath you and rubbing against your clit, only pulling away and gripping at your hips again when you were close to the edge. 

  
He wanted you to last just a little longer, knowing he's teased you by making you wait so long for him patiently in that chair. He grunted, pulling himself fully out of you, and you were finally able to release your moan, face rubbing against the chair back. The sash wrapped around you lifted slightly off one eye as your face slid against the back of the chair, your vision blurred trying to focus. Hanzo rutted against your ass, his length running along your slit and over your back hole. He rubbed against you, slowly making sure to hit your every outer nerve making your legs twitch. Leaning down with one arm wrapped around your midsection, he pulled your body back towards him letting your knee on the chair drop to help you stand upright again, he let your body rest against his as he continued to rub himself between your cheeks.

  
He turned you around towards him again, surprised when he saw your eye peeking beneath the sash staring back at him, pupil blown. His hair was disheveled, pieces hanging in front of his eyes, some stuck to his forward with sweat. He absolutely was still wearing his suit, his dick poking through the opened front of his pants, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. You could tell at some point he had loosened his tie in an attempt to pull it off but never finished the job.

  
“We can’t have that, can we?” He reached up, pulling the sash back down, covering your eye.

  
“All dressed up and I don’t even get to enjoy it.” You tsked at him, running your hands down his forearms then lacing your fingers in his. You brought his hand to your face, blindly kissing at his knuckles. He let you lust at his fingers while his body worked around you, kicking at the chair and scooting it back to the desk.

He stole his hand back, and quickly pulled at your hips bringing you to the floor with him. You gasped at the sudden movement and flatted your back to the ground, Hanzo was positioned between your legs, one thrust from being inside you again. He slid an arm behind your back bringing you to an arch, his other helping you lift your hips. He ran his length along you again, teasing your clit now, you drew sharp inhales your stomach muscles clenching in pleasure. His teasing continued, spreading your wetness before finally pushing himself in you again. He filled you perfectly, and he buried his face into the crook of your neck as he pumped in and out of you again.

  
You felt his hot breath on your neck, murmured Japanese against your skin. Your pussy began spasming around him, making him pump you harder. His lips caught on your skin, kisses now pressed across your chin, neck and collarbone. You could feel the sweat of his forehead against you, his loose hair tickling your neck. Your body stiffened, you shot your hands under his shirt, nails clawing at his back. Skin of your back was making contact with the carpet beneath you now that the robe had been pushed up around your shoulders, and all the movement was pushing the silky sash up again. The angle of your hips against his, hands squeezing and supporting you and the new sensation of carpet burning into your back were throwing you over the edge.

  
“Keep going-” You gasped squeezing your eyes shut as the sash pushed further upwards, your nails dug into him. You threw your legs up wrapping both around his waist, forcing him to stay on you. He continued his hard pace, feeling you twitch around him in your orgasm, legs shaking and your moans with his name driving him over the edge. The belt now pushed all the way to your forehead, your vision went white a few moments as your eyes flew open, now sensitive to the light and blinded with pleasure. Your breathing hitched on the final hurdle as you pulsed on him tighter than ever before.

Hanzo bit at your throat lightly, rutting through your final moments. As soon as your body allowed, he pulled himself out pressing his cock against your lower stomach and quickly releasing his own orgasm onto you. Warm strings of cum spraying across your abdomen, reaching up to your chin. Your breathing was heavy, coming down from your own high. He rocked his hips against you a few times lazily enjoying the last pulses watching his cum pooling against your skin.

He removed the arm behind you, allowing you to lay flat on the ground, catching your breath. He placed his hands on either side of you, leaning above you watching as your eyes focused on him. Hair stuck to his forehead, he smiled down at you admiring a small bite mark he left on the side of your neck.

  
“Thank you, for indulging me.” He leaned down, kissing the mark. You curled your lips, sighing at him.

  
“Happy to.” You brushed your hand against the sash, removing it from your head. Hanzo stood, adjusting himself back into his pants. With both hands he helped you back to your feet, bringing you to a hug when you stood. He rubbed your shoulder blades, and kissed the top of your head.

  
“Now-” He leaned back, placing your hands in his. “Allow me to clean you up. I apologize for the… mess.” He looked down at his clothes, ruined from pressing against you, now covered in his own fluids.

He led you into the bathroom. You leaned against the wall while he ran the water in the over sized bathtub. He looked back at you, playfully.

“Bubbles?” You laughed, surprised Hanzo would even offer.

“That sounds great.” He left the room for a few moments, entering again with a small bottle in hand, tie now off and in the process of unbuttoning his suit vest. You placed your robe back onto the hanger, the sash on the bathroom counter. He poured some of the solution into the running water, creating luxurious cherry blossom scented bubbles. You let your hair down, now wild from rubbing against the floor and stepped into the water, the temperature perfect. Hanzo left the room again, reappearing shirtless and pantless in the doorway with the second bottle of wine and a glass in the other, raising his eyebrow at you in question. You nodded, bringing water up to wash your face and he disappeared again.

  
The tub now filled, you turned the water off and listened for Hanzo, hearing the sound of the fridge close from the room. He entered again, completely nude with two glasses of wine balanced between fingers on one hand and the two chocolate truffles in their small boxes held in the other. He placed the boxes down next to the tub, and handed you a glass climbing into the tub facing you. Your legs stretched over his body, feet resting against his chest, his legs on either side of you. The two of you clinked glasses, and took a sip. He handed you one of the tiny boxes.

  
“A thank you.” He held his between his fingers. “And a promise for more to come.” He popped the truffle into his mouth, you followed with yours, enjoying a rare quiet moment with the archer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pattern on the robe is in reference to Kintsugi (Japanese gold repair on broken vases/bowls). 
> 
> I'm a total slut for the Scion Hanzo skin- that's what I imagined his suit as, but it can any suit you want!


	5. Spanking, Jack Morrison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: While Overwatch is operating  
> Notes: Commander/agent dynamic

So you entered a couple things wrong in the database, what’s the big deal? It was an easily fixable mistake, harmed no one, and didn’t contain sensitive information. This was the first time since entering Overwatch you were being scolded for your work. You stood in Commander Morrison's office, trying your hardest not to roll your eyes while he chewing you out for “compromising integrity” and “not paying attention”, insulted by having him insinuate that your job was just a glorified secretary.

He was ripping into you for what felt like forever, clearly he does this often enough that he has a full speech prepared for every little mistake. A couple minutes of this you were able to bear, but when it started pushing 10 minutes you were becoming visibly annoyed. You were shifting your weight, eyes checking the clock every ten seconds, stifling miffed sighs. 

“Sorry agent, is this bothering you? Getting reprimanded for doing your job incorrectly?” He stood, hands slamming on the desk in front of him.

“It was just a mistake commander, I think you’re going a little overboard.” You mumbled down to your feet.

“What’s that?” He mimed not being unable to hear you. “Sounds like insubordination to me.” He rounded his desk until he stood looming over you. You had to catch your breath, realizing just how much larger he is than you, god he looks so strong- has he always been this handsome? “Do you understand what the punishment is for insubordination?” His arms crossed, and before you could filter yourself you sarcastically replied.

“Are you going to spank me, sir?” You immediately slapped your hand to your mouth, eyes widening realizing this was not the time or place to sass. The commander raised his eyebrows in surprise, certainly not expecting that as his face flushed pink. You moved your hand to the side of your face in distress, now attempting to stand straight, taking a step back from him flustered. “Sir, I’m so sorry that was completely inappropr-”

“U-usually it’s just a formal write up.” His body was stiff, neck flexing and he nervously glanced at you. “Unless you think that’s a more reasonable, um-” He paused, trying to read your face. “Punishment?” His cheeks were burning red now realizing he should in no way even be suggesting this, he attributed the momentary slip in his judgement to being blindsided by your comment. He turned to his desk blurting. “I’ll just get this write up started.”

He quickly sat behind his desk again, clearing his throat and ears burning bright red. He stared at his screen, fingers hovering above his keyboard, tight lipped and his eyes nervously flickering between the screen and you.

“You know, I think maybe it’s best we just let this one go. It is your first mistake after all.” He shrugged his shoulders throwing his hands in the air, trying as hard as he could to play this off. You nodded, probably a few times too many.

“Thank you-” You nervously played with the sleeves of your shirt. He ran his hands over his face, stopping to rub his eyes. “Sir.” You tacked on the formality thinking you could save some sense of professionalism. He looked up with his blue eyes staring at you intensely, shifting in his seat and clearing his throat again.

“Unless you have anything else to report, you’re dismissed agent.”

He attempted to coyly adjust himself beneath the desk, face still flushed and now purposely avoiding eye contact with you. You turned heading towards the door, pencil skirt limiting how quickly you could reach it, but you stopped just before turning the handle. _Shit_ , you just really don’t know when to stop, do you?

“Sir?” He froze, watching you with wide eyes. “I’m not sure it’s entirely fair to everyone else…” He stood slowly. “Going unpunished.” You leaned back against the door, knees suddenly feeling weak. He placed his hands against the desk supporting his weight as he leaned toward you face suddenly furrowed and serious. 

“Do you understand what you’re asking for, agent?”

“Yes sir, I do.”

“You understand once you leave this stays between us?”

“Yes sir, I understand.”

He moved through his office, sitting in the center of a couch tucked against the wall while he watched you. He adjusted his hips, opening his legs wide, one hand rubbing his thigh. You’ve never seen him look this nervous, or excited. Before you could tell your feet no, you were standing in front of him unsure how he wanted you to go about this. He nodded, looking down at the ground.

“I’d like to avoid any shoe prints on my furniture.” You took the hint and gently kicked them off. Still red faced, he patted his lap and lifted his hands to give you room to lay down. As you were climbing onto the couch he helped you get into the best position for him. Sensing your heavy breathing on his legs after you were laid across him, he ran his palm gently up your back. “You have the option of leaving if it's too much, I’ll stop if you tell me to.” His voice was quiet, but comforting. You nodded, relaxing a little. His hand ran down your back, curving over your ass and stopped on the backs of your thighs where your skirt was hiking up.

His palm rubbed against you, you weren't sure if he was hesitating or just teasing. You bit your lip, face pressing to the couch cushion in anticipation. He lifted and made sharp contact with your covered behind, stinging a little. Your legs tensed on the contact.

“I think ten is a fair punishment, do you agree agent?” He rubbed small circles on the backs of your thighs.

“Yes, sir.” You lifted your hips a little. This prompted another hard smack, a little lower on your cheeks. Then another made contact harder than before, but you could tell he was holding back. You were gripping into the fabric on the couch holding your noises of excitement through your bit lip, his covered erection pressed against your midsection. He pushed at the hem of your skirt, tugging up to your hips and exposing your polkadot thong to him.

“ _Cute._ ” He certainly sounded pleased, and you laughed into the seat of the couch embarrassed. The laugh was cut off by another smack, this time much more painful now with skin to skin contact, but immediately eliciting a small moan from you. "Are you enjoying this, agent?" His hand was caressing the spot he landed, comforting the stinging flesh. You turned your face to the side looking at him, grinding your midsection against the swelling bump beneath you and watched his reaction to the pressure. 

"Of course not sir." You wiggled your hips at him. "I'm taking my punishment very seriously." His half lidded eyes lit up, the hand on your ass starting to handle you a little rougher. You were ready for his next smack, landing across both cheeks as you gasped in pleasure.

He didn't give you a breather before the next one immediately after, this time sweeping across the side, your gasp turning into an unintentionally sultry moan. He ran his hand over the spot he hit feeling the red heat growing, wandering over the curve of your ass and down the back of your thigh, then back up again. You rolled against him again, body shuttering as you flattening your hips to his legs, he released a low groan and squeezed at your thigh. Pulling away, his hand brought down another slap, this time on the upper back of your thigh. You shot your hips back up and he ran his hand against your thigh and ass again, stopping to squeeze hard on one cheek then spanking you again, this time hitting the bottom curve of your cheeks. 

"How many so far?" He was testing you. You ran your fingers through your hair brushing it out of your face as you side eyed him. 

" _Eight_." 

"Then let's make these last two count." This time as he ran his hand along your ass and down to your thighs, you felt his thumb glide along the outside of your panties. Your body shuttered at the teasing touch. When his hand ran back up his thumb was harder against you, lighting up every nerve passing over your slit. He brought his hand up and slapped the back of your thigh, your skin turning a vibrant spotty pink to match your ass. Soothingly he rubbed against the strike like before, but this time taking the opportunity tease his fingertips against the wet spot on your panties. He took a few minutes to rub his hand along you, building a coil in your stomach waiting for his final smack. You began circling your hips slowly as he ran his hands over your reddening cheeks and thighs, whining into the couch cushion. Your toes were curling, fingers gripping into the seat in heightened anticipation. 

His final smack was the most powerful one, in the dead center of your ass. Morrison even surprised himself, looking down and seeing his final hand print fully formed in red- you were definitely not going to be sitting right for at least a few hours. 

"Have you learned a lesson about insubordination, agent?" He gave your ass one last squeeze for good measure, then pulled your skirt back over your hips and down your thighs.  _NO_  you screamed mentally, never actually wanting this to stop.

Instead you smirked up at him, climbing out of his lap.

"Yes, sir." Once standing again you slid into your shoes, smoothing your clothes out, now feeling the stinging sensation of his spanks against the rough fabric of the uniform skirt. "I'm sure I'll never break another rule again." You said not sarcastically, but certainly not sincerely.

"Good." He was adjusting himself, trying (failing) to hide what this did to him. "I think it'd be best if you got back to work now." His face was still flushed, you could tell he was trying to rush you out of his office. You turned to leave, this time for real. As you opened the door he offered you a final piece of advice. "And you better behave." You winked at him, smiling and closing the door behind you as you left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like should go without saying but please don't ever actually do this with your boss, it will not go as well. :)


	6. Sadomasochism, Reaper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: After the fall of Overwatch  
> Notes: Needle mention/use (nonsexual), piercings, & general physical pain associated with Sadomasochism

Working the night shift at a prolific chemical weapons producer sometimes brought unsavory characters to your lab. Usually it was an unhinged drug addict that security would catch before they made it to you, but nothing could have prepared them for Talon infiltrating in the early hours of the morning while you were working. They knew the ins and outs of the building, the timing of the security checks, which cameras were where, and even that to access the airtight fortified chemical holding room you had to have both the access key and facial recognition; Or in short, Talon could get in the building, but they needed someone they could manipulate to actually access to the chemical on a regular basis, and you were just the gal.

The first time you met Reaper he came with a small posse. A tall scientist, and a handful of lackeys waiting outside the building while they negotiated (forced) you to comply in supplying them with a rare chemical twice a month. The chemical was known for having stabilizing capabilities on degenerating human genetics, but at the moment still not cleared for human testing due to often lethal side effects from simulations. You watched in horror when the scientist combined your chemicals in a tube attached to a needle she brought with her, and without a second thought stabbed it into the exposed skin on Reapers arm, eliciting an awful angry growl from the man.

You were livid being part of such an awful scheme in the beginning, only knowing that the chemicals somehow kept this monster “living". Every time you would see news stories pop up about the things Talon was responsible for, you would feel your stomach sink. But... the money they gave you to keep your mouth shut really loosened your morals enough, and you easily became numb to that sick feeling of doing something wrong.  

* * *

 

After a couple months, the scientist stopped visiting with Reaper. He would instead wordlessly appear in your lab, vial in hand ready for you to pour the chemical in. Part of you wanted to ask him if the horrible stories about the things he's done were true, but you rarely spoke to him outside of greetings, too afraid of saying the wrong thing and accidentally getting yourself killed if they were.   

Once, he popped up right behind you causing you to scream and drop an entire tray of (thankfully empty) petri dishes, shattering them. When security checked on you, Reaper had faded off somewhere and you lied telling the guard a mouse got loose and that everything was a-okay now. After the guard left Reaper reappeared from black smoke a couple feet away from you, starling you yet again as you were picking up the pieces of glass causing you to accidentally slice into your hand fairly deep.

You hissed in pain that it would be a few minutes before you could get him what he needed, as blood from your palm stained your stark white lab coat. He leaned against the wall, and although you couldn’t see his eyes you could certainly feel them watching you as you pulled the first aid kit from a cabinet. Your hand shook, you weren’t sure if it was from the adrenaline of dealing with security, the cut on your palm or from the fear of being alone with this man. He watched as you struggled opening the box, pulling out hydrogen peroxide and bandages. The fact that he was watching you struggle doing such a simple task, now bleeding on everything, was humiliating. You couldn’t even get the cap off the peroxide bottle.

Finally he must have taken pity, he loomed next to you and twisted the cap off between two clawed fingers. You almost wanted to roll your eyes, _show off._ Defeated, you held your hand above the sink and he tilted the bottle over your palm, pain hitting the cut making your arm twitch, you sucked in a breath and squeezed your eyes shut. You left your hand to hang over the sink, rinsing in water as he started unwrapping a bandage for you as you squeaked through gritted teeth. He grabbed your palm, a little too roughly, making you gasp in pain again then carefully wrapped the bandage over your wound. He chuckled darkly when you snatched back your hand after he was done, inspecting his work.

“What are you laughing at?” Your voice was accusatory, almost wondering if he did all this to you on purpose.      

“The noises you make when you’re hurt.” Everything he said was menacing, deep voice sent fear straight to your heart. _“I like them.”_

You widened your eyes in shock, stumbled over whatever words you were trying to get out resulting only in a an incomprehensible ‘uhhhh-mmm’ as you stepped over the broken glass and into the chemical hold, swiping your access card and entering the room to avoid wherever this conversation seemed to be going. When you came back out, Reaper had swept up the glass and already rolled up his sleeve partially, waiting with the needle. You handed him the substance, letting him mix the two then stab it into his arm. You cringed, never getting use to the sight.

* * *

 

The next handful of times he came to the lab were routine, in and out in less than 5 minutes. Slowly you became braver when you spoke to him, stared asking how his night was going. Sometimes he would respond, other times you would linger in silence until he held out his hand for the chemical. In the quiet of the lab on nights that he would visit, you swore you could feel him there before he even appeared from his smoke. Something about the air shifted colder and a feeling of static would linger.

One night during the summer he arrived at a time you really wished he hadn’t. You were slammed with work, picking up the reporting that the day shift couldn't cover, and restocking boxes of supplies that had arrived at the start of your shift needing to be put exactly where they belonged before a new test started tomorrow. Tonight your lab coat was off, instead sporting a tank top as you switched from recording the day shifts work, to restocking- your coat would do nothing but overheat you as you moved between tasks. His form appeared in front of you as you were hunched over a microscope, recording data onto a notepad observing two time sensitive compounds interacting. At this point you didn’t even need to look up to know he was in the room with you. Reaper immediately noticed your lab coat was off hung on the stool beneath you showing much more skin than usual.

“Not right now, I need you to come back later.” Boldly, you didn’t even take your eye from the lens on the microscope. 

_“Now.”_ His deep voice demanded. You kept your eyes glued to the microscope, hand writing away briskly. You stopped yourself from blurting out a comment that he was acting like a child, instead opting for a disgruntled ‘hmph’.

He waited a few moments before standing behind you. You unexpectedly felt a claw drag across the skin on your arm, running up and over your shoulder blade to your neck, careful enough not to cut you. You froze, eyes no longer focused on the lens in front of them. His taloned fingers wrapped slowly around your neck, resting the sharp edges dangerously close to veins. His hand was large and strong, and although he wasn't putting pressure on your neck and you could tell he didn't need the bladed edges to kill you if he wanted to. You closed your eyes, taking a deep shaky breath dropping the pen in your hand to the notepad.

“I’m not scared of you Reaper.” You weren’t sure if this lie was for your sake, or his. You stretched your neck a little, carefully pulling away from the microscope and leaned back to sit up straight. He was closer than you thought, as soon as you were upright your back made full contact with his chest. The thought passed through your mind that you were leaned against against a clip with extra shells for his guns. You swallowed, knowing full well he probably felt your neck muscles tense.

"You should be." You could feel his chest rumbling as he growled down at you. 

“Give me an hour to finish this, and I’ll have what you need waiting for you when you come back.” You leaned your head back, trying to look up at him. His grip around your neck tightened, not enough to cut off your airways, but enough to frighten you that he would- and something clicked in you, something that scared you more than the thought of him killing you, _this was turning you on_. His mask looked down at you, your pupils blown out, pulse now raising beneath his fingers. He recognized your reaction immediately for what it was.

Releasing your neck, he reached for your hand flipping your palm to face him. He leaned down, voice near your ear as he ran his fingers over the scar of the cut he bandaged months ago.

“One hour.” His body faded into smoke and you were left shaking, pausing longer than you needed to process that he had listened to you. Once you gained your composure, you immediately threw yourself back into work to record the final interactive moments of the compounds under your microscope. After your observations were complete, you gathered Reaper's tube and placed it waiting for him on a counter in the lab then started working on the restocking. 

 

When he was back, you were sat atop a counter placing new labels on shelves of cabinets, again you didn’t even look at him when you felt him in the room.

“See? I got what I needed to done. One hour.” He grunted, taking what he needed and mixing it. The sound of his heavy boots walking toward you caught your attention and you looked up. He stopped in front of you, holding out the vial with the needle attached. You raised your eyebrows at him, slowly taking it from his hand. He rolled his sleeve up to a more fleshy part of his arm.

“I see the way you look at me when I do this.” _Oops_ , you thought. He probably didn’t appreciate the disgusted looks you gave him each time he jabbed this into him arm. “Go ahead.” You hesitated, scared that if you tried you might not be strong enough to even puncture his skin. “You need to do it hard or you’re going to break the needle.” He sounded annoyed, you sucked in a breath and slammed it into his arm pushing the plunger on it immediately. He let out a loud growl, clawed hand moving to grab his arm once you removed the needle. “Agh!” He groaned your name at you. “I didn’t mean that hard.”

Embarrassed you blushed, genuinely not intending to hurt him nor realizing you _could_ hurt him, and mumbled a sorry. His free hand reached up to hold your chin, claws grazing against your cheeks.

“You’re more dangerous than you realize.” Your chest heaved with deep breaths, eyes staring into his mask. He groaned again, this time sounding less like pain and more like pleasure. He released your chin. “See you next time.”

Then he was gone, and you were left alone in the lab, thoughts racing as you tried to finish your work for the day shift. Reaper scared the shit out of you, but you've never wanted anything more in your life.

* * *

 

The visits after that Reaper would hold the needle out to you again, letting you get comfortable with giving him the serum. You found it was easiest to get the angle right if you sat on the high lab counters so you were at the right height, otherwise you were jabbing it in at a weird angle from below (it took a few tries to get it right). With every visit you wondered more about what being with him would be like, you wanted him to dominate you, control you, break you, but you never acted on it. He started talking to you a little more, never anything personal, but he was responding to your greetings. He was responding your questions about how his night was going (always 'good', 'bad' or 'you don't really want to know'). One time you even made a joke, and you swore you heard him suppress a chuckle. 

 

Then one visit he came a little earlier than usual, his body seemed more tense than times before. Your 'hello' and question about his night met with muffled grunting. You thought he must be in a bad mood, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

You hopped up taking a seat on the counter, legs wide apart as you adjusted to make yourself comfortable. Before you were able to lift your legs to cross them like you usually did, Reaper had positioned himself between your knees, resting one hand on the front of your thigh the other holding the vial towards you. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, glancing down at his hand. Those damn claws on your leg were teasingly close to your groin, you took the vial from his hand. You let out a shaky breath, wondering if this was his twisted version of flirting. His sleeve was already lifted, you stared into the darkness of the eyes in his mask, not breaking the contact as you slammed the needle hard into his skin pushing the plunger.

A groan came from deep within him, the hand on your thigh gripped tightly from pain and claws ripped through the fabric of your pants digging into your skin. You gasped, leaning into his chest and your hand reached to his forearm for balance. At the same time you quickly removed the needle, dropping the metal and plastic to the floor. He grabbed at your wrist holding it in the air next to his arm. You shuddered a moan against him, and he quickly took his hand from your thigh, grabbing your throat and using it to slam your back down to the counter holding you tight enough that he didn't let you hit your head against it.

His hand left your neck and you dropped the back of your head to rest against the cold surface below it, breathing heavily. You brought your legs up to his midsection, hooking around him and holding him close. He held your wrist above you, moving your other to meet it so he was holding both down with one hand, gripping hard enough to bruise.

“You don't understand what you're doing.” His low voice rumbled out at you.

“I want you to hurt me.” It came out as a sigh, arching your back towards him. You wished you could see the expression on his face, but also enjoyed the suspense of not know what he looked like under the mask.

“I could kill you.” You shivered. He wasn't making a statement, he was making a threat. His free hand moved to your chest roughly squeezing, ends of his talons poking against your skin. You rolled your hips against him.

“Do whatever you want to me.” Your voice was a low whine, begging into his touch. He growled at you, leaning close to your face.

“We're not doing this.” He hissed, sounding upset with you, like a parent lecturing a child having a tantrum. His hand moved to your legs, roughly pulling them off as he backed away, you didn't have a chance to ask any questions before he faded into smoke and out the room. Your body shook after he was gone, running on adrenaline. You decided you needed to take this a step further the next time you saw him. You saw his shuddered breaths when he reached for your throat, felt a heartbeat racing through his chest when you were pressed against him, you _knew_ he wanted this too.  

* * *

 

The next time he came you were ready for him, lab coat already off. Vial out, you kept it on your person instead of the counter, ensuring he would have to come near you to get it. When you felt his presence you made sure you were turned away from him, hiding that you were braless.

“Do you have it?” He still had a scolding tone to his voice. _Ooh,_ somebody was impatient tonight. You removed the vial from your pocket holding it up beside you, as you turned your head to look at him over your shoulder. He hesitated, but began walking towards you to retrieve it. Just before he reached you, you turned to face him completely. His pace came to an immediate halt a couple feet away from you, now frozen staring. Through your white tank top were obvious metal bars piercing through your nipples keeping them hard against the fabric. You could feel his eyes on you, and his breathing becoming heavier.

“Got them done after your last visit.” Your free hand reached up, running your thumb over a sensitive bud, shuttering a little you continued. “They still hurt.” The front of his pants looked tight, he stalked towards you again.

_“I'm going to wreck you.”_   His body pressed against yours now, face leaning down and mask against your ear. “If you want me to hurt you, I will. I'll make you scream until your voice gives out. Leave bruises that will last for a year. No one else will ever be able to do to you, what I do. You'll. Be. _Mine_.” He stole the vial from you, quickly using it and injecting himself. He shot a clawed hand to your throat squeezing, you stared at him though half lidded eyes, mouth open gasping. “Is anything off limits?” He growled above you.

“No-” you were panting. “Nothing.” You smiled as he tightened his grip. “But if I ever think you're getting a little too carried away, I'll tell you.” He gave you one last hard squeeze before releasing you, you gasped for air lightly touching the spot he was strangling you. He backed away from you, body beginning to fade to smoke, laugh echoing through your lab after he was gone.

 

It was a long night at the lab after he left, you walked home that morning exhausted, sure the next time you saw him would be a couple weeks from now. Your feet were tired from standing all night, but luckily with the money you were making from the job (and your _side job)_ , you could afford a nice condo just about a mile up the street. You dropped your bag and keys next to the door the moment you entered, running your hand through your hair and mentally listing the chores you needed to do. You kicked off your boots, heading towards the kitchen first. About halfway through your living room the air around you suddenly felt off, electric almost.

“I know you're here.” You accusingly looked around, seeing nothing. A moment later his form appeared a few feet away lingering in your darkened hallway. You watched him, silhouette unmoving as if he was deciding to go through with this or not. You wanted to bait him, test his patience. "If you want me, you have to come get me." 

Before you could say anything else or process how quickly he was at you, his covered hands were pushing your shirt and bra up, uncaring when some of his blades nicked your skin. He fully exposed your breasts, squeezing them together roughly. He used the ends of two claws to pull at the metal bar pierced through your nipple, you whined in pain feeling your clit throb. He released you momentarily, taking the opportunity to throw his cloak to the floor. You finished removing your shirt and bra, chucking them across the room.

His hand reached behind him, unhooking something from his belt and bringing back a metal cable with small loops on one end, clasp on the other. He chuckled short and low. His free hand lifted your chin, then circleed the end of the cable around your neck, clasping into one of the loops. It was snug around your neck, you could tell the metal would irritate your skin if you moved too much.

“Turn around.” You complied, facing your back to him. He grabbed for your wrists, bringing them together and wrapping the remaining slack from the cable tightly around your forearms, wrists, and over your palms. Jerking movements from your arms restricted you airflow, so you tried to keep as still as possible. He pushed down on your shoulders bringing you to your knees, then used his boot to push down on your back forcing you into a crouched fetal position on the floor. Your face was pressed against the carpet, your arms stretched behind you pulling against the cable at your throat. He knelt on the floor behind you, hands gripping either of your sides lifting your hips in the air, then ripped your pants down leaving scratches on the surface of your skin as he scraped his claws against you.     

You were bent over in front of him, hips raised, pants and underwear pushed to your knees. You heard metal clatter to the ground with other heavy thuds, likely his belts and armor coming off. To your surprise a warm regular hand grabbed at your ass, squeezing. You opened your mouth to make a comment about the clawless fingers when the hand retracted and came down hard across your cheeks. You gasped, instead of forming any words. He slapped you so hard you could swear you felt it welt instantly, it almost brought a tear to your eye. He didn't give you a chance to even catch your breath before his other hand also came down hard in the other direction. You yelped this time, just underneath it a moan, sure he drew blood on that one.

His hands gently caressed the spots, carefully examining the red marks he left. He raised his right hand, spanking it against you over and over again in the same spot. You saw stars and your legs shook, trying to recover from the pain. After his last flurry of blows, his hand slid down fingers teasing at your entrance. You were already wet, dripping onto your thighs. Two thick fingers slid into you with ease, you moaned when they filled you. He was rough pumping into you, filling the room with wet sounds to accompany your strangled moans. Reaper used his other hand to pull at the cable, briefly cutting off your air, you choked, eyes rolling in pleasure. He released the cable letting you gasp for air between the rough pumping of his fingers. Then he pulled his hand from you, leaving you empty and twitching for more. He brought his hand hard on your ass again, spanking the same spot and forcing you to curse his name into the carpet. 

“Stay here.” You shook, but tried to stay as still as possible. Outside of your panting, you heard Reaper shifting through drawers in your bedroom. After a few minutes he made a pleased noise heading back towards you. He pulled on the cable, forcing you to lift your head, looking up at him. He had one of your scarves in his hand, a thin plaid scarf you only used for dressing up cute outfits. You sat up, legs tucked under you, back now upright arching towards him. Without hesitating he wrapped the scarf around your eyes, completely blocking your vision, tying it tightly against the back of your head.

"Can you see me?" You shook your head no, eyes only seeing darkness. 

You heard Reaper stand, shuffling and more items hitting the floor. When you felt him again he was behind you, running his hand along your back next to the cable. Your felt his legs press against the backs of yours, skin exposed. He yanked the cable again, all the breath left your lungs, and you briefly went light headed before you felt his arms wrapped around your midsection, holding you against him. Your hands tied behind you were pressed against his body, you flexed your fingers realizing his pants were now off and against your tied palms you felt a familiar human organ. You wrapped your fingers around the hard flesh unable to completely circle around his member. A low rumble came from him.

“You’re going to scream for me.” His usual deep voice was different, no longer muffled. You realized during his previous shuffling he had removed his mask, and this sent your body into overdrive.

Suddenly he was aligned with your entrance, tip pushing in. Your gasps turning to struggling groans as he stretched you beyond what you thought you were capable of, you weren't expecting him to be so big. His hands landed on the front of your hips, fingernails digging into your skin, he forced you down onto him. The stretch when taking his thick cock and his length hitting your cervix forced an involuntary scream. He didn’t give you any time to adjust, instead driving into you hard, using your hips as handles to move your body exactly how he wanted. He continued with one hand helping to bring you down on him, the other reached up to your mouth. His middle and ring finger pushed past your lips during a gasp, going deep and holding down your tongue. You drooled around his fingers, unable to fight your tongue out from under them.

He continued his hard pace into you, concerned only for his own pleasure. The fingers forced into your mouth made you lean your head back against his chest. Stretching your neck, the cable exposed beneath it your skin was beginning to bruise, area around the clasp irritated and rubbing raw. Your shoulder blades were beginning to twitch from your arms being held behind you. Reaper was grunting as he worked you, enjoying the sick pained moans you made each time he hilted in you. Just as your body was about to completely give into him, he ripped his fingers from your mouth and pushed your back forward, forcing you again to a crouched fetal position crumpled in front of him.

When he pulled his cock from you and rocked forward again, he was between your thighs, using your own wetness to fuck between your legs instead of giving you the satisfaction of entering you again. He worked at your legs frenzied as you whined loudly, fingers behind you curling. Continuing where he was, he leaned over you grinding your face into the floor. You screamed in frustration, wishing he would enter you again, the sensation of him using your body only for his own satisfaction left you tingling, the coil in your stomach hurting for release. Hunched over you, his teeth scraped against the skin of your back, lips dragging to just below where the cord looped around your neck. He sunk his teeth down, sucking with intent to mark you. While his lips were busy with your neck, he reached below pulling hard on your piercings. You could feel his cock swelling and pulsing as he continued to pump between your thighs. He removed his mouth from your neck, low groans telling you he was getting close. You were begging, practically crying, desperate for him to give you something before he finished.

Reaper gave another pump between your legs before pulling his hips away. He leaned back, now upright and admired you in front of him, moving desperately to get any sort of friction, face down pleading through gritted teeth into the carpet. He ran two fingers along your slit, your body pushed against them hungry for more. He teased at your hole, but never entered you, running along the folds and avoiding your swollen clit. He was teasing you while you were right on the edge. In a fit of desperation you slammed your hips towards him, stuffing his fingers inside yourself. Reaper growled, grabbing your wrapped wrists and pulling his fingers out of you, immediately his hand coming down as a painful spank against your already bruising ass. You screamed out again, your body on the verge of release. He grabbed at your face, hand reaching around and gripping roughly onto your chin twisting your face sideways towards his as he lifted you upright.

“Try that again and I'll leave you tied up here for the weekend.” His voice was deep next your ear, words no longer muffled by the mask he sounded even more dangerous. He released your chin, moving both hands to pull against your nipples and pressing his cock into your back. You panted, leaning your head back against him landing in the crook of his neck. You could feel his face was close to yours, his muscles tensing against you.

You were gasping through dry sobs of pleasure, lips against his neck you could feel a raised scar on his skin. A part of you was reminded he must be human, and he must still want some form of affection. You spoke, voice was almost a whisper, tone coming out softer than you expected.

“Can I kiss you?” He paused, body freezing briefly at the request.

Your question was responded to by being shoved against the floor as he rammed angrily into you, not giving you any time to process him. His large cock and the resulting choking of the cable from being jerked to the ground made your world go white under the scarf around your eyes, allowing him to slam into you over and over again while you tried to get your bearings. When you could gasp a breath again, you felt a finger pressed against your unused hole. His thick finger already pushing past the ring of muscle, burning as he entered you. You let out another scream, all the sensations now throwing you over the edge- you wouldn't be able to stop this now, even if you wanted to.

He continued his pace in you, chasing his own orgasm as you twitched beneath him, pierced nipples rutting against the floor, one finger hooked in your ass, muscles spasming around it and your pussy clamping down lighting up every nerve. Your body tensed every muscle, involuntarily bringing you hard against him as you rode though your orgasm. Your gasps and moans were replaced by high pitched whines and the coil in your stomach finally snapped letting out one final long release of pleasure through your body. He pulled his finger from you, filling your pussy to the hilt one final time, hands now pushing against both your shoulders now to keep you in place as he came against your cervix, filling you and rocking lazily through his own final moments. You both stayed there, breathing heavily and coming back to your senses. He was leaning his upper body weight against your shoulders still pushing you into the ground until you let out an uncomfortable groan.

Tight and raw around him, Reaper pulled himself out followed by thick cum. He examined your ass first, running his fingers against the raised ridges from his hand prints, the areas where he slapped turning a deep red. Parts of your back and hips had tiny cuts from his talons ripping your pants down in a hurry to get them off. Your exposed holes were swelling from use. He moved to the cable, taking a few minutes to carefully unwrap it. Your palms were irritated from the metal, but the majority of the bruising landed on your wrists, small lacerations above the bruising where too much friction caused your skin to break. Now free again you rolled your shoulders and stretched your arms to your sides letting them fall to the ground next to your body as he continued at the cable around your neck, unlatching it. His calloused fingers ran against your irritated skin, stopping at the cut where the latch had dug in. On the side of your neck was a golf ball sized hickey, teeth marks still showing around the red and purple blemish.

He lifted your shoulder, helping you roll on your side then to your back, your body twitched in pain as sensitive skin on your ass ran against the carpet, laying flat. Still blinded with the scarf you laid your hands on either side of your face waiting for him. Your nipples were irritated, both from the piercings being pulled at and from rubbing against the carpet while he pounded into you, your knees streaked with rug burn. Just below your knees your pants and underwear were resting on your legs, he gently tugged them off you and tossed them away. 

You didn't say anything, listening to him grunt as he stood, gathering some of his things. Your breathing was finally slowing to a normal pace.

“Can you stand?” You stretched your legs, curling your toes making sure nothing was tingling.

“I think so.”

“Give me your hands.” You put both hands in the air above you, he grabbed each pulling you up too quickly, you went light headed as your legs started shaking and you accidentally leaned too far falling onto him. You went to take the blind off, hoping to adjust better but his hand caught your wrist. “Not yet.”

_Oh,_  it hit you that blinding you may have been a bonus to your own sensation, but he didn't have his mask on and probably didn't want you seeing his face.

You felt him lean away, coming back with a knit blanket you kept on your couch nearby. He placed it in your hand, letting you wrap yourself in it. He walked you to your couch where you sat, immediately regretting it and shifting to your side to avoid the hardest hit areas on your cheeks. You heard his movement for only a couple moments before his hands were on your head removing the scarf. Eyes adjusting to the room, you saw light creeping in behind the blinds telling you the sun was rising.

He stood towering over you, his mask, pants, and skin tight shirt back on, but none of his weapons or his cloak. You got a good look at his muscular arms, his skin was sickly, and riddled with scars and marks. He put your chin between his thumb and pointer, making you face up to him.

“Did I hurt you?” You realized the mask made his voice a little deeper, it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Of course, I asked you to.” You wished you could take that mask off him, what could he be so afraid of? Even if you recognized him you'd never turn him in.

“No, did I _hurt_ you?” You were taken aback, somehow surprised he'd check to make sure you were okay after all that.

“No, Reaper. I'm okay.” You placed your hand over his, nuzzling against it lightly. “I would have told you to stop if you did.” His shoulders relaxed a little, and he ran his hand over your cheek.

"You should get cleaned up, probably put some bandages on those cuts." His fingers floated to the growing bruising around your neck. 

You nodded, standing and walking towards the bathroom as you glanced to the floor where he had you thinking about your question to him, when you felt the scars on his neck with your lips. You were unsure how to ask this, having never quite been in a position where someone fucked you silly, but didn't kiss you before. As you were checking yourself in your mirror, you called out to him. 

"Was asking to kiss you too much?" You heard a disapproving grunt from your living room, but no verbal response.

After washing your cuts you leaned out the open door, staring into your living room.

"You can tell me if it's too much, Reaper." Still no response.

Shrugging the blanket over your shoulders to cover yourself you went back out to check on him. You were met with an empty room, all traces of him gone apart from the wounds on your body, and your clothes thrown throughout. You pushed out a shaky breath. Part of you expected him to leave immediately, but you had hoped he would stay. You chewed at your nail, nervous if you would see him again before his next lab visit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... um. This took a lot longer to edit than I thought, and went from less than 1k to around 5k in the process and ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ sorry about that- hope you enjoyed it anyway!


	7. Biting, Genji Shimada

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: While Overwatch is operating/Blackwatch Genji  
> Notes: Friends/lovers, grieving, premature ejaculation

When you first met Genji he was a wild card. Showing up places with different hair colors, convincing you to break into arcades with him, staying out late to party until the sun came up. You liked that Genji. He knew how to be gentle with you when you needed it. He would bring blankets for you to lay on while you star gazed before passionately fucking you, then would listen to you complain about your friends life choices for hours. You’d bring him his favorite candy from your overseas trips, help him polish his blades, and make out with him on the nights when he didn’t want to talk but needed some kind of physical connection; You even consoled him when his brother wouldn’t over their fathers untimely death.

You knew you weren’t the only girl in his life, he knew he wasn’t the only boy in yours, and that was okay. You just enjoyed each other's company no strings attached, best friends no matter the circumstance.

So when you heard what Hanzo had done, you were devastated. Angry, pissed off, out for blood. You screamed outside the gates of the Shimada estate every day for a week letting Hanzo know exactly what you thought of him until their guards pulled you away and carried you home, physically and mentally exhausted every time. After that, you had a difficult time making new friends and keeping the ones you had. You started isolating yourself, looking for reasons to be alone. You told your family you were going to travel the world, see the things Genji always talked about wanting to be able to see- the perfect excuse not to have anyone around you. 

* * *

 

Months later, you were on a public tour of the Sweden Overwatch headquarters. Genji talked about Overwatch a lot before he was, you know. Gone.

You were lagging behind the rest of the tour, and behind a pair of reinforced glass doors labeled “Authorized Access Only” stood a man who you thought at first glance was an omnic. Covered head to toe in glowing red tubes, and intense red eyes, he stared at you above a mask covering his lower face. His head followed you as you walked by, but something about his eyes made you reverse your step to double check what you saw. It was no omnic, standing with his left arm exposed and riddled with horrific scarring was Genji. Something about him looked completely… unhinged.  

You felt like you were going to vomit. Your mind went wild with conspiracy theories telling you there was no way this could be him. He had to be a clone, or a hologram, or a horrible coincidence that he looked like Genji.

But, the way he looked at you. It was him. Those were his eyes, that was the way he looked at you when he was _hurt_. He quickly turned his head to the side looking over his shoulder, a man behind him clad in all black and a cowboy hat motioned for him to come over but you couldn't hear him talking. You shouted Genji's name. His mechanical body turned to leave, offering a glance as you ran to the door trying anything you could to open it, pounding on the glass setting off alarms, emotions taking over as you sobbed. He watched you with beaded eyes as you were dragged away in a fit by security, onlookers horrified at the commotion.  

* * *

 

A month after that, while staring at an art exhibit in Italy you got a text from Genji. Hearing his text tone and reading the message sent you spiraling, at the time it felt like your feet weren’t even touching the floor. You wanted to cry, or scream, or throw your phone across the gallery. You wanted to tell him you fucking hated him, you wanted to tell him your were sorry for what Hanzo did, you wanted to hold his hand and tell him everything would be okay; Instead you asked him where he would be next, and planned your next trip to there.  

 

When you saw him again, he knocked softly at your hotel room door. You wore an old dress he always told you was his favorite, flower patterned and sweetheart neckline, it was packed away in your suitcase for the last few months more as a reminder of him than an expectation that you'd one day be wearing it again. Opening the door you almost expected him to be someone else, expecting it to be an elaborate ruse. His new mechanical body was scary, eyes intensely bright and body hard, covered in metal and glowing red. But his face was riddled with hurt and guilt. Without words, he brought you into a tight hug, picking you up from the floor, uncaring that he knocked the wind out of you. Familiarity was mixed with the touch of a stranger, after the hug you pulled him into your room cautiously. He looked at you the same way he did the night after his father was murdered, he needed to feel something real, he needed to feel _you._  

You brought him to an oversized chair, forcing him to sit. You climbed onto him, flicking the edge of your dress up and moving your panties to the side while he removed a plate from his groin. Genji seated in the chair, you were straddled over his lap, thighs on either side of his hips. The metal of his legs felt cool against your skin. Red lights glowed against you, dimly lighting the otherwise darkened room. His tip lined with your entrance, you lowered yourself slowly rocking your hips until he was fully in you.

He held you close to him, arms wrapped around your back in a hug. You leaned your head on his, Genji's face pressed against your collarbone. Running your hands through his hair and down his neck, gentle caresses reminding you of the times you used to spend together. He began rolling his hips, keeping the pace between you two slow. You panted hot breaths on the top of his head as your hips moved together. His teeth were nibbling at your collarbone, traveling up until he was at a soft part of your neck. While his hips lazily pumped beneath you he bit down hard, then moved a couple inches and bit down again. Every bite elicited a gasp from you, his mouth traveled down continuing the love bites to your chest pulling the front of the dress down and biting at your nipples.

This Genji was familiar, but it felt almost like you were experiencing him for the first time again. The metal and plastic forming his new body had an obvious physical difference, but everything about him was shifted to something different, something confused. His movements were careful and deliberate, as if he was scared he would break you with the smallest twitch.

His hand gripped at the fabric of your dress on your back, holding on as if letting you go might slip you out of his reality. His teeth released your nipples, head rested against the top of your chest. His thrusts beneath you now irregularly hitting, breaths slowly turning into quiet sobbing gasps. You pulled away from him, bringing your hips to a still, your hands dropped to cup his cheeks, running over the scars stitched across his face. He raised his eyes to look at you but avoided meeting your gaze, his eyes watering. He was still fully in you, but both of you stopped moving.

“Genji…” You pressed your forehead against his, heart pulling at the thought that this may very well be the first time he’s been with anyone in his new body. “We can stop, if you need to.” Your voice was soft, whispering against his skin. A tear fell down his cheek, he nuzzled hard against your skin in an attempt to conceal it. He rutted upwards into you, fingers digging into your back.

“I just want to feel-” You squeezed him tighter. _Please Genji, don't finish that sentence._ “Human.” _Fuck, Genji._  You brought your hips hard down onto him, bringing his face to yours wiping the tear with your thumb. You kissed him, softly at first, careful, as if kissing him too hard might shatter him to pieces. He pulled you, thrusting further and deeper into you and kissing you hungrily. His glowing eyes were tightly shut, lips pressed to yours hard.

“I’m here for you.” You gasped pulling away as he continued in you. “Whatever you need.” Your hands around his face squeezed, you kissed him again hoping desperately he understood that you meant  _whatever he needed you’re here_.

Glowing eyes looked into yours briefly, his teeth gently bit down on your lower lip. His bites again traveled down your chin, down your collarbone, and back to your chest. His tongue swirled, teeth pulling at your nipples. He thrusted desperately into you, your walls pulsing around him. His forehead was beading with sweat, robotic hand moving from your back to push his hair off his forehead. You could feel the ghost of his bite marks on your skin burning in small circles and on the tip of your nipple. He brought you to a deep kiss again, eyebrows furled and fingers gripped to the back of your head tightly. His breathing was fast, gasping for air as he was no longer able to control his desperate need to consume you. He was throbbing, harder than you’d even felt him before.  

For the first time he pulled from you before you were able to reach your own peak, his dick pressed between your stomach and his, Genji came hard gasping in surprise as he shot between both of you, covering your dress and his body with his own fluids. His breath catching gasps sounding dangerously close to sobs, you continued running your thumbs across his cheeks, holding his face close to yours and kissing across his lips and cheeks, wordless telling him anything he did was okay. The two of you breathed hard against each other for a moment, before he pulled back comprehending what he did.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered your name, looking away in shame. “This body has cursed me, I do not know what I am doing.” You shifted, moving to sit in his lap sideways, hugging him tightly.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” There was a long moment of silence.

“Thank you, for this.” Genji held you, now loosely cradling your back and neck. “And for everything.” He leaned against the crook of your neck, looking down at his growing pink bite marks sprinkled across your upper body. Your chest was rising and falling, heavy and shaking on the verge of tears, completely overwhelmed. “I’d like to stay like this awhile, if that’s alright with you.”

You nodded, leaning into him and holding back the dreadful sobs knowing he would be leaving again soon to get back to Blackwatch, unsure when or if you would ever see him. His arms wrapped tightly around you, you felt safe and complete for now. 


	8. Praise, Reinhardt Wilhelm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: Takes place while Reinhardt is still with the Crusaders  
> Notes: No warnings! :)

The Crusaders were passing through your town celebrating from a recent win against a heavy omnic uprising, and you weren't going to miss a chance to see them. 

You knew from the moment you saw Reinhardt that you’d be in his bed before the night was out. You bit your lip staring at him at all night. He was built like a wall, flowing blond hair, and heavy laugh. You shared flirtatious glances until he finally approached you with beaming confidence to ask you back to his room.  

* * *

 

Reinhardt tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, large hand lingering against your cheek.

“You have a gorgeous smile.”

“Oh stop, you charmer.” Your cheeks burned, not actually wanting him to stop. He kissed your blush, trailing kisses down your body until his face was between your legs. Your legs hooked around his broad shoulders, his hands moved beneath wrapping to your hips holding you against him. Kisses through smiling lips trailed across your inner thigh, you giggled as the hairs of his beard ticked your skin.

“My love, your laughs would make the angels envious.” He was laying it on a little thick, but god were you _loving this_. He hummed happily, now moving to kiss at your heat. He ran his tongue against your folds testing at first, running down and pushing lightly against your hole. Your body bounced in surprise at the warm intrusion, letting out a gleeful gasp. You could feel him smile against you, tongue now running in circles around your clit. He brought a finger to your entrance, carefully pushing just past his nail then adding a second one. His fingers thick and soft dipped in and out twisting against your walls. You pushed your hips against him, lifting your arms above your head gripping at the sheets.

He sucked at your clit building you up in passionate fits. He was already filling you with his large digits, your mind raced at the thought of what his dick might feel like. Fingers now worked you into a frenzy, pumping and lighting up every nerve of your walls. The way his tongue moved around your folds above his fingers threatening to drive you insane. You were already so tightly wound just from the sheer thought of being with the giant that you couldn't stop as your spasmed around him.

“Your body is perfect.” He was panting between licks. “I love how you sound when I touch you like this.” He drove his fingers into you again, making a point to suck your clit roughly.

He came back up for air, muttering against your groin in a language you didn't quite understand. German, or maybe something Swedish, you guessed. Your head was swimming, inner muscles refusing to stop their pulsing as you rode his fingers through your first orgasm. He said something to you, but honestly you had no idea what it was, all noise other than your own gasps of pleasure muffled out as you fluttered your gaze upwards uncontrollably. Your body strained heavy breaths as you came down from your high, Reinhardt continuing to pump into you.

He slowly dragged his body up yours, until your noses were inches from each other. He was still smiling, he began laughing, heartily shaking the bed from his sheer size when he did so.

“If just that made you turn to putty in my hands, I can not wait for the rest.” You were blushing, his hard dick pressed against your leg. _Shit_ , he felt huge, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to take him.

“Reinhardt, I’ve never-” He must have felt your breath hitch, mulling over actually getting him in you, he pressed fingers teasing at your entrance again. “I’ve never been with anyone this… big.” Your leg against him, he released a guttural moan. Two fingers pushed in again making your body shiver. He kissed your neck, blond hair flipped to the side.

“I will be careful with you.” Teeth nibbled lightly at your ear. His thick fingers scissored in you, pausing as a third pushed in next to them. You tried to relax your body, whining out when the three fingers hit to his knuckles. They curled in you, pressing and massaging, now blurring your mind. You were moaning against him, hands gripping the sheets above you so hard you thought you may rip them off the bed. The thought of taking anything bigger than this sent a shiver down your spine.    

He removed the three fingers, moving his hand to help align his tip with your entrance. He sat up, keeping your legs at his sides your hips now angled up to him. There was a brief crinkling of foil followed by a rubber smell wafting towards you. He rolled the condom on, then ran his tip up and down your slit, coating himself with you and circled his tip on your clit, your body caught itself in a gasp as he teased you. He continued this, letting you think he was going to push into you, then pulling away at the last second. You were going crazy, just on the verge of screaming if he didn't give you what your body wanted. 

He slowly began pushing into you. He paused just after he entered, giving you a moment to catch your breath and stretch around him.

“You are taking me so well, liebling.” He continued muttering in a foreign language.  _German_ , it was definitely German.

He was closing his eyes, face up to the ceiling fully enjoying himself as he gently pumped his tip in you. He removed the hand gripping himself instead moving to your hips, palms rubbing down along the length of your thighs and hooking around your knees. He held your legs a little wider, pushing into you. You could feel every pulse, every vein against your insides even through the condom, your walls tight around him being pushed to the limit. Your legs started shaking, shoulders grinding into the bed below, breath catching as he filled you completely. Hands squeezed your knees, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your skin in a small show of comfort.

“Wonderful, you feel incredible.” He opened his eyes looking down at you. Blond hair flopped to cover half his face, a hand left your knee to reach down just below your belly button pressing against a small bulge, feeling himself poking through you. “You’re doing so good, so beautiful.”

He pressed down against himself through your skin feeling as he pumped himself in and out of you slowly. Your arms above your head moved to cover your blushed face, moaning as he filled you completely. He was slow at first, stretching you and letting you get used to his size. His hand gently pushed at your arms, uncovering your face.

“Please do not hide.” His smile was big. “I want to see you enjoy yourself.” He rode into you hard, forcing a gasp as you melted against him. His hand fell to your chest, softly squeezing. His hands were big too, everything about him was big, big, _big_.

You let the full feeling completely wash over you, giving in to his touch. Your mouth hung open with uncontrolled moans each time he thrust into you, hands grabbing and squeezing all over your body. His touch was driving you wild, your own hands now traveling down and feeling him through your skin as he pumped in and out. Your fingers dipped, rolling your clit between them.

He buried into you harder, watching you with intense eyes and bright smile, now setting his pace quick. He watched your face twist in pleasure, lips no longer holding back moans when he rutted against your g-spot. His name and curse words laced between your gasps, he continued squeezing at your chest pinching at your nipples, muscles on his arms rippling with definition every time he moved. Your pulse was racing, pounding in your ears. He was muttering again, words of encouragement as he rode into you- your mind going into overdrive, you weren’t sure what language he was talking in anymore. You were losing track of time, his pumping becoming insatiable. Reinhardt’s hands gripped roughly against your hips, bottoming out in you with a loud moan.

“You’ve been so good.” You were seeing white, unable to hang on for much longer. He ran his hand past your belly button again, pressing against himself inside you. You let out another whine, coil in you finally bursting. He could feel your wall twitching around him, body jerking against his final thrusts, your fingers working harder on yourself faster than they ever have in your life.

“Ah-!” Your body reflexed against itself, pushing through fits of pleasure. Reinhardt’s own moan roared above you as he pumped you past the final hurdle of your orgasm. Your noises and his last thrust sent him over the edge, releasing in you as your body shook from aftershocks.

He laughed, pushing his hair out of his face and pulled on his beard to straighten it as much as he could. He pinched against the base of the condom, carefully slipping out of you and rolling it off. You laid on the bed, breathing heavy, arm now covering your eyes as you felt him step off the bed, gathering the discarded packaging and placing it in the trashcan across the room. When he was back, his hands massaged gently against you hips.

“You were an absolute treat, my dear.” He reached for the hand of the arm covering your eyes, bringing it to his lips. You smiled up at him while he kissed your knuckles. “I certainly hope I will meet you again some day, when this war is over.” He let your hand go.

“Me too, Reinhardt.”


	9. Hate Fucking, Jack Morrison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: While Overwatch is operating  
> Notes: Commander/agent dynamic, alcohol mention/use, mention of scars & body injury
> 
> ** I am currently writing an expanded version of this one shot, found under the title of Jack Fucking Morrison in my works, check it out if you want a more detailed/continued story! :)
> 
> EDIT: HI, I AM SCREAMING! Youtube channel Dremekeks has done a read through of this chapter and you can listen to it here: https://youtu.be/cngXMVcaGvA

* * *

You have been the absolute bane of Morrison’s existence for the last couple years.

Every order he gave you fought. Every email he sent met with cc'd all replies containing snide comments about his leadership. Every meeting gone over time because you just _had_ to say something about his ability to run the strike team, official paperwork filled out reporting everything he did, refusing to refer to him as his title; The list goes on and on. Everything you did was tailored to make him miserable, but no matter how many times he wrote you up or assigned you on cleaning duties for your behavior he knew he couldn't kick you out of Overwatch. Much to his dismay, you were locked into the role by contract after an international incident of his own fault that involved you, and because of it you were signed permanently to the organization on the sole agreement you would never sue or speak to the press- that and you were one hell of a hacker out in the field. 

Your animosity started after your very first mission under him, just over two years ago when the incident occurred. You were part of a 5 person strike team that he made a reckless wrong call on, not pulling out of the mission when he should have. Your entire team was injured, lucky enough to make it out with your lives, but out of everyone you were the only one able to still operate as field agent. Everyone else was discharged with nondisclosure agreements, hefty sums of money, and a lifetime worth of hospital and mental health coverage because of the havoc caused by his actions.

You knew from the moment you chose to stay you would make his life as close to a living hell as possible, you made a calculated decision to make him suffer for what you and your team experienced that day. Physically, you were left with scars and burns across your left arm and midsection, injuries that are nothing more than superficial now, but reminded you everyday that Morrison chose -no, demanded- your team continue into the battle, even when they begged him not to. 

At first, he felt guilty every time he saw you. He'd see you and be reminded of when you were carted into the hospital wing, your body arriving back on base unconscious and cut open. Your actions were lashing out in anger, he understood and tried to give you time to process however you needed to. He was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes after days of heavy sedatives, stings of curses hurled at him through medicated sobs. But two years in it was getting old, your temper tantrums were becoming less about his work ethic and more about him personally.  

He was sick of no respect, sick of being your verbal punching bag. He slowly shifted from civil and caring while he gave you time to process, then to detached and juvenile when he was around you now. He started finding little ways to piss you off even when you hadn't lashed out at him. Getting under your skin by 'accidentally' telling you the wrong meeting room, 'accidentally' calling you the wrong name, or 'accidentally' stepping on your loose shoelace while you were walking.

When you did mouth off, he'd assign you cleaning duties, purposely trashing the rooms he assigned you to, sometimes while you were in the process of cleaning them. After a few sly attempts to avoid the punishments you eventually fully complied with the punishments after he was able to withhold your pay for not performing them. Your mood changed from angry to bitter with every mess you cleaned, then you two started getting in public arguments. Other agents would make complaints if you and Morrison were working together, official reports listing your interactions as 'hostile', 'upsetting', and 'uncomfortable'. 

* * *

 

The biggest blowup between you two happened a few weeks ago, when multiple strike teams crammed into a meeting room to go over a big sting operation. He explained where each agent would be located, the dangers involved, every detail- but made a point that you were only there as a secondary backup on _transport_ of all things.

You rolled your eyes and huffed when he announced your assignment, what a joke it was. He was asking you to babysit the drop ship pilots, a job only given to people who are unfit for any other duties. You seethed throughout the entire meeting, knowing full well he was sidelining you for no good reason other than to annoy you. You could get the hacking part of the job done by yourself, but he was sending three rookie agents in your place. You stared at him, teeth grinding while you waited for him to finish his briefing.

Everyone else in the room had gone still, sensing the tension radiating off you. The moment he finished, multiple people who knew what was coming shot from their seats and out the door. Newer agents lingered gathering their things, eyes carefully switching between both of you until the arguing started.

You slammed your hands on the table demanding a reasonable explanation why he wasn't letting you on the ground in this mission. He responded with finger pointing sarcastically telling you Overwatch didn't revolve around your skills as an agent. Angry voices grew louder as the two of you were the only ones left in the room, increasing until it was an all out shouting match heard through the closed meeting room door and all the way down the hall. You were standing on the tips of your toes angrily telling him he was going to fuck this up the same way he fucked up your first mission under him, he was responding by matching your anger and volume and swiping a folder of report papers off the table. 

The argument came to a crescendo when Morrison slammed a fist intending to hit a wall behind him, instead hitting a small window that looked in from the hallway and sending shattering glass flying through the air to the tune of screams from agents eavesdropping nearby. He looked shocked, then turned back to you angrier than before. You both stood in stunned silence, shaking and piercing into each others eyes. Your body shook from the shock of hearing shattering glass, the sound mimicking the explosion that injured you and your heart drummed in your ears. Lieutenant Wilhelm rushed in and physically pulled you out of the room fearing one of you was about to get physical. Red in the face and shaking uncontrollably, you immediately walked away wanting nothing to do with the situation anymore, avoiding onlookers stares as you huffed away.

 

Morrison knocked at your door later that evening. He had dark bags under his eyes, knuckles bandaged.

"Your CO refused to tell you. You've been kicked off the mission." Typical. Your commanding officer avoided every conversation that related to Morrison now after having been in the middle a few too many disputes- he stopped playing messenger between you two months ago. 

"Let me guess, you get to stay even though you're the one breaking windows?" You could tell he was biting his cheeks, trying to not say something. You nodded your head, tight lipped. "Of course." 

"Listen." He breathed out your name almost as an afterthought. "I need to apologize for today, things got a little out of control and I didn't mea-" 

"Bite me." You slammed the door on him, closing your eyes and leaning your forehead against it until you heard his heavy footsteps walk away. 

* * *

 

The base was a ghost town for the week everyone was gone on the mission. Usually loud mornings in the commissary were replaced with hushed murmuring, those with you who were left behind sat as far across the room as possible during meal times. Most people avoided you by now, wanting no reason to have you angry at them, so you spent most of your time alone. A couple of the Blackwatch boys who also got left behind (too much of a liability, they told you), would occasionally take pity and help you practice when they found you alone in the training room, but they wouldn't put up with your shit and would walk away the moment you got even a little too heated. 

You only heard that the mission went off without a hitch once everyone returned. Drop ships arrived back on base with tired, but smiling, agents. You ran into Morrison moments after he landed on your way to get dinner from the commissary, he was perfectly groomed and a pack slung over his shoulder still dressed in his stupid commanders jacket. The moment he saw you, he was absolutely beaming at his first chance of being able to gloat. You wrinkled your nose before he even spoke, quickening your pace and shoulder checking him as you barreled past him. He turned to your back, shouting as you walked away.

"We missed you on the mission!" Came his sarcastic voice down the hall. You shot a glare over your shoulder at him, trying not to give him the satisfaction of getting in your head. 

The next day, you found out they were having a ceremony at the end of the week to honor a handful of outstanding agents, two captains, and Morrison for putting together and executing the mission you weren't a part of. You couldn't possibly roll your eyes hard enough to convey how undeserving Morrison was of receiving another honor.

Then while you were eating breakfast you got a mass email inviting Morrison's strike teams to celebrate after the ceremony. You just about threw up your toast. Leg bouncing, you thought about how you hated these things, they were always so stupid. Everyone just got drunk and stroked each others egos. You looked around you, other agents were excitedly talking among themselves. A pang of loneliness hit your heart, you wanted something that at least resembled friendship. You clenched your jaw pressing the accept button, for the first time deciding you were going to one of these celebrations not with the explicit intent to make Morrison miserable, but to try and make friends.  

* * *

You were sat in an audience for what felt like the thousandth time watching stupid Jack Fucking Morrison strut across the stage getting another medal of honor for doing absolutely nothing. As he walked down from the podium and off the stage, you let your habits get the better of you and made sure he saw you grimacing, slow clapping sarcastically a couple rows from the front. His face fell from proud to disgusted immediately when he laid eyes on you, snarling. After he was out of eyesight you put your face to your palm, sliding low in your chair trying to remind yourself that tonight you weren't going to make any jabs at him, tonight you were trying to take the high road. 

 

In the evening when Morrison entered the common room followed by his fellow honored captains and agents, they were greeted by cheering peers, and you sticking to the corner with a drink in your hands. After making rounds of greetings he approached you, smile dropping to an angry frown when his face was out of view of the others.

"Nice attitude earlier. Trash duty." He kicked the a bin next to him. "Make sure you're the last to leave." 

Your temples hurt just at the thought of getting into another argument with Morrison right now, so you just glared back at him tight lipped accepting it. He walked away, and you rolled your eyes turning your attention to a film playing from a projector. You built your courage enough to sit with a handful of agents on the pair of oversized couches, curling your knees to chest as you awkwardly tried to lean into their conversation only for it to die out as soon as you joined. You stared ahead, not particularly interested in what was playing, but decided it was better than sulking alone in the corner. 

 

As the celebration went on, party goers were getting weary and heading back to their rooms for the night. The music had stopped playing, overhead lights shut off leaving only the faint glow of the projector as it played final credits softly. A couple of passed out agents were leaning against each other on the sofa next to you. You stood, making your way to the trash bin when you noticed the only other person left awake in the room was Morrison, leaned against a wall watching you. You began scooping trash into bins as he drank from his cup, your eyes flickered up to his in annoyance. 

"Fuck off Morrison, I'm doing what you told me to do." You were shout-whispering at him, not wanting to ruin a successful night of ignoring him. 

“Tasteful.” His voice was low, he took a long final sip. “Thanks for not making a scene tonight, like you always do. I appreciate you keeping your hate for me at a low simmer this evening.” He threw his empty plastic cup on the table in front of you, letting out a belch towards your face. “Oh, sorry, would you like to report that to my superiors too? I'm sure they'd like to know of my _unprofessional conduct.”_ You glared, continuing to pile the trash left behind. 

Ignoring you he rolled his eyes, turning on his heels heading back to his own room. You stared at the cup he left on the table, trying to take a few deep breaths. Jaw clenched you shook your head, leaving trash duty behind. As he walked through the hall, he heard the pitter patter of your feet on his tail.

“You know what Morrison? I wasn't going to say anything to you tonight until you decided to be shitty!” He scoffed back you.

“That's rich, coming from you.”

“You didn't do _anything_ to deserve that today. I know it, you know it, everyone here knows it but you get away with not doing anything because your the stupid poster boy! You took all the credit for your team who was working on the ground while you got to sit on your ass watching all the action on a screen!” Morrison continued walking, ignoring you behind him. “You may be my commander on paper, but I will never actually consider you _my_ commander. A real one would have been right there in the field!” You continued to rant, blindly following him through the corridors, up an elevator, around corners and all the way to the door of his room. Midsentence he interrupted you-

“You need to be quiet, people on this floor are trying to _sleep_.” Angry that he would cut you off you poked his chest.

“I don't care! I'll wake all of them up to let them know what a sham you are!" You turned your body to the empty hallway, volume increasing. "You hear that everybody, Jack Morr-” He slapped his palm over your mouth in embarrassment, hoping nobody was awake to hear your tirade.

“Shut up, you don't need to shout it at the other commanders!” He hissed in your ear, pulling your body into his room and only releasing you once the door clicked shut.  

You stumbled back into him, his hard body catching yours. You quickly found your footing on your own and shoved him off you, spinning to get a look around. He switched on a light allowing you to see his room had a kitchenette, small living room, a personal bathroom and a separate sleeping area. It was exactly how he was, perfectly put together, but lacking personality. 

“You-” You stopped yourself from saying something meaner than you meant. “I hate you, Morrison.”

“Right back at you.” He heaved a sigh, tired of fighting with you and threatening to write you up. He leaned down unlacing his boots and kicking them off next to the door. "Don't you have a party to clean up after?" He walked into his kitchen.

"Dock my pay, I don't give a shit." You heard him respond in a grunted  _hmm_. Removing his belt as he faced away from you, he set it on the counter and grabbed a bottle of scotch from a high cabinet along with a shot glass. He turned to look at you, eyes moving to your boots. 

"If you get my carpets dirty you'll be cleaning them yourself." You watched him when you bent over, fingers working at the laces of your own boots, as he stared back into the cabinet contemplating for a moment then grabbed a second shot glass. He crossed the room to his three seat sofa with a low metal table in front of it. He placed the bottle and the glasses on the table. He turned to raise an eyebrow at you in the silence as he removed his heavy blue commanders coat, folding it and draping it over the back of the couch. Without the armor or the coat on he was now dressed exactly as an agent was. Exactly as you were, tight black undershirt with black combat pants. The thought of him ever being anything like you made you angry- or maybe it was the other way around. 

He sat sinking into his couch, hand running through his perfect blond hair. You still stood near the door as icy eyes stared at you, moving only when he poured two shots, leaving them on the table in front on him. 

"Will you sit down?" His tone was harsh.

"No. I just want you to actually listen to what I say. Anytime I try to make myself heard, _you_ turn it into a screaming match." Part of you knew you were projecting. He let out a hard, sarcastic laugh.

"We both know that's not true. Your the one with the temper." 

"I'm not the one who broke a window." 

"It was clearly an accident-"

"And you always feel the need to brag to me about everyth-"

"Like I need you, to feel accomplished-"

"Maybe you're just trying to overcompensate-" 

"Shut up!" He cut through as you both tried to talk over each other, lowering his tone. "Could we try to have just one normal conversation? It doesn't always have to be so _fucking difficult._ " You sucked in a breath, Morrison has made a lot of rude comments, given you many demands, but never before has he cursed at you. He was frustrated, fingers rubbing at his temples. 

"I know I've ruined lives, alright? Is that what you want to hear? I made decisions that got your people hurt, got _you_ hurt. I've also made calls that got people killed." He snarled out your last name the same way someone would spit out sunflower seeds. "That's what being a strike commander is."His face was serious, eyebrows stitched together. "I've attended all the funerals, personally been the one to tell loved ones they're not coming home. I was the one fighting to make sure your team was taken care of after they were no longer with Overwatch." You realized you were griping at your shirt above the scars and burns from that awful mission. "It gets lonely, having to shut out friends because you think one day you'll be the one calling the shots on their death. But you wouldn't understand that. You're ungrateful. Spoiled. Think you can get away with anything because of that _fucking_ contract!" Twice in one day, maybe Morrison was finally showing you his true colors. 

"I don't have any friends here for me, because of you." You snarled, knowing that was only partially true- you pushed everyone away who tried to be close to you. "And you don't get to make me feel guilty for you, Morrison. I don't care how lonely you think you are." Your eyes were watering even though you desperately tried to stop them. He shook his head, rolled his eyes and leaned back to stare at his ceiling paying no attention to your reaction. 

"I know what my decision did to you. Saw the damage. I'm sorry, okay? I never intended for anyone to get hurt. I never do." His breath was shaky. One of his legs started bouncing, he crossed his arms and continued staring up as if he might burn a hole in the ceiling. His voice dropped to almost a whisper. "I can't keep doing this with you. We're just driving each other crazy."  

You paused, taking a few beats too long trying to find any words you could to describe how angry you still were with him. 

"Suddenly now you've got nothing to say?" He laughed coldly to himself. "I don't think there's anything I could say that would make you not hate me." His voice was heavy, he ran his hands over his face.

You chewed at your lip, staring at the ground as you blinked back your emotions.  

“So listen. I need some sleep. If you're going to continue on with your little speech about how awful and undeserving I am of being _your commander,_ you can go right ahead. But I'm going to get ready for bed, so you better say whatever you need to, now." You stayed silent, staring at your socks. Your arms were crossed as you leaned back against his door. He cleared his throat, when you looked up he was holding a shot towards you.

"If you need some _confidence_." He narrowed his eyes, grimacing at you. You hesitated, but approached him and took it from his hand. He grabbed his, lifting the glass in a mocking cheers before downing his own. You watched him swallow, his blue eyes dropping to your face and staring coldly. The taste of it burned as it ran down your throat, you coughed in disgust. 

“Well,” He stood and began heading towards his bathroom. “Let's hear it, agent.” You followed him to the bathroom leaning in the door frame, preventing him from closing you out. He started brushing his teeth, staring at you through the mirror. You mulled over the things you wanted to say as he raised an eyebrow watching you angrily stare at him and form your thoughts. 

“Morrison.” Your voice was clearly trying to drive home that you wouldn’t refer to him as commander. “You shouldn't even be the poster boy for Overwatch.” The faucet turned off after he finished, gargling loudly and obnoxiously before spitting, his eyes rolling dramatically at you in the mirror. He shuffled further into his bathroom. “Unlike Commander Reyes, you haven't personally been in combat since-” The sound of a zipper and a small water stream suddenly broke your concentration. His hips were lazily angled away from you, but you could see his hand gripping his dick. “Seriously?”

“I don't know what you expected, you followed me in here.” His shoulders shrugged, hips leaned forward and head lulled back. You rolled against the frame, out of the bathroom and faced back into his living room as you closed your eyes in disgust now hearing him peeing and exaggeratedly grunting at the end. “Please, continue.” He shook himself then dropped his pants to the ground. Stepping out of them he was now only in his undershirt and boxer briefs, he kicked his pants to a corner of the bathroom and left them as he exited past you.

“You're disgusting.” You deadpanned, but couldn't help admiring the toned muscles on his legs. Admiration stopping abruptly, when you saw the outline of his flaccid dick visible through clearly well worn underwear as he passed, your face flushing at the sight instantly.   

“You're the one that's still here. Leave if you're done, the door is right there.” His moved both his hands to present the door to you nonchalantly as he moved through the room.

You continued on telling him that he was a pathetic excuse for a commander, that he was no better than a tyrant with a gun. You insulted his marksmanship, his ability to run meetings, his judgement when putting strike teams together. On and on you continued as he put his bottle of scotch back in the high cabinet, washed the two shot glasses in his sink, leaned against his counter to listen to you as he downed a cup of water, and walked towards his bedroom.

You silently watched him as he crossed the room, rant paused as you caught a glimpse of his groin again, now more distracted than before. Once he was at the door to his bedroom he shot you a disapproving look, hitting a switch and turning off the lights in the room you were currently in leaving you in total darkness.

He sat on the edge of his bed wondering in the brief moment of silence if you had finally finished and left, then turned on his bedside lamp. Your figure emerged from the darkness, stepping into his bedroom light and he groaned, throwing his head back in his hands and flopping onto the mattress beneath him.

“You're an asshole.”  

“I've heard it all already, can't you come up with something new?” His voice was muffled behind the hands on his face.

“I hate your hair.” You scowled, as he propped himself up on his elbows to look at you, letting out one hard laugh.

“Resorting to physical insults now?”

“Your teeth, too.” 

“Wow.”

“And the way you walk.”

“Incredible.”

You came closer, entire hand gesturing towards him. “You are the physical embodiment of everything I hate. Your eyes look as fake as your personality, and you couldn't get that body without military intervention.” Morrison was almost laughing out loud now. Surely you couldn't be serious? Years of (sometimes valid) insults and push back, and now this is the ground you’re standing on; Ending an argument with _yeah, well, I think you're ugly?_

You were now standing directly in front of him, leaning sour faced and blushing, avoiding all eye contact with the outline in his boxer briefs. _Fuck_ , you need to walk away right now. The way you were looking at him, it was angry, but it was eager. He furrowed his brows, suddenly placing both his hands on your sides, fingers teasing the bottom of your shirt as he sat up and leaned in, pressing his face to your stomach.

“I may be a lot of the things you say.” He rolled his forehead over your abdomen, unintentionally breathing in deep catching whiffs of your soap. “But even you know I'd never sink low enough to attack your physical appearance.” He was right, but you were stunned all the same staring down at him in shock from the sudden physical contact. Looking around the dim room trying to find inspiration for better insult, but unable to come up with a better retort you blurted out.

“Fuck you, Morrison!” 

His hands traveled up your sides, bringing the hem of your shirt up and exposing your stomach to him, coming to a rest at your rib cage. Piercing eyes examined the scars and burns covering most of your midsection. Your pulse was racing, trying to figure out where he was going with this, afraid the next words out of his mouth would be _psych, your body is disgusting and I'm happy I did this to you._  Instead he ran his fingers across them, soft, as if he was memorizing where each one was. 

"Breathe." You didn't realize you had been holding your breath, and released a shaky exhale. The way he was touching you, you felt like your whole body was blushing. “You know, you can stay the night if that's what all this has been about.” He looked up at you. “It seems like maybe we both need some company tonight. And I don't mind, even if it’s _you._ ” Thumbs moved to tease your skin, rubbing just below your breasts.  

You scoffed at the thought of spending even a second more with this man and roughly pulled your shirt back down. 

"Not even in your nightmares, asshole." You pushed him away from you, storming off into the darkness towards the entrance, slamming his door behind you. Morrison laid on the edge of his bed, covering his mouth in shock and embarrassment. There was a knot in his stomach telling him to chase after you, a knot that he was desperately trying to ignore.  

You got all the way to the elevators before you realized something didn't feel quite... normal. _Shit,_ you looked down at your socks, cold linoleum floors radiated against the bottoms of your feet. Your boots. You probably look insane, power walking through empty hallways this late a night, red faced, with no shoes on. You had already pushed the elevator button and were bouncing as you contemplated the pros and cons of going back. Elevator doors opened to empty space with a soft ding as you cursed at yourself, turning around heading back to his room again.  

 

At his door you shifted on the balls of your feet, trying to talk yourself into knocking. Boots. You were just going back for your boots, that's it. You weren't even going to look at him, or his stupid body, or his stupid blond hair, or his stupid pretty boy lips.

You hit the door once, and Morrison opened it before your knuckles had the chance to make contact a second time. He wrapped an arm around your midsection, pulling you back into the darkened room with him. Your arms fell around his shoulders, lips dangerously close to his. You could feel his breath against your skin, unsteady as his fingers gripped into your back.  

"Iforgotmyboots-" God what were you even saying? You talked so fast you weren't even sure words actually came out of your mouth, you didn't even look at your shoes. You lifted your hands and ran them through his stupid perfect hair, messing it up with vigor. His arm still hooked and breathing hard against you, he walked backwards bringing you into his bedroom again. At the threshold he released you, backing to sit at the edge of his bed, watching and waiting for you to make the final decision.

You moved slowly, coming to a stop between his spread knees. He leaned back, looking you in the eyes. You brought your shirt over your head exposing your bra. His lips held back a smile as he ran his hands over your stomach and your scars, around to your back, he buried his face in your chest. You felt his fingers fumble with the bra clap, shaking from either excitement or nervousness before finally pulling it off you. His hands circled back around, fingers playing with your nipples as you sighed into his touch. While his hands were busy, you opened your belt, unbuttoned your pants, and pushed everything else off you. He helped push your pants to the floor, running fingers along burn marks that extended onto your hips. Now fully exposed to him, he brought you close, kissing the edges of your scars.  

You gently pushed at him, until he laid his back down against the mattress watching you. You leaned over him, running your fingers underneath his tight shirt, feeling the ripples of his abs beneath your finger tips and lifting until you pulled it over his head. He was pressed against his boxer briefs tightly, cock swelling as you pulled his underwear down his hips to the floor. When you stood again, his hands raised to grip your rib cage gently, until your body caved and climbed onto his, legs now straddling his waist. His hands lowered to your thighs, grabbing them as he bucked his hips. Heat and need mixing, he was breathing heavy as his hands ran across your legs. Feather light fingers dragging across your skin mixed with needy squeezing, he was lighting up nerves you didn't know you had, sending sparks of desire straight to the coil tightening in your stomach.

Morrison bucked his hips beneath you again, hard cock now rocking against your ass. His body clearly aching for more, you shifted above him allowing easier access with your hand. He groaned with your touch as you dragged your fingers down his chest and through the trail of hair leading to his groin. He looked like he was enjoying this too much. You weren't going to go easy on perfect Jack Fucking Morrison. You reached beneath you and took hold of his cock. He was thick, hot and heavy in your hand, you could see the stupid smirk across his lips in the dim light as you grabbed it.  

“Smallest I've ever been with.” An obvious lie you said taking any cheap shot you could to belittle him. He rolled his hips into your hand as you pumped him between your legs. His lazy smile turned into something more sinister.

“Size won’t matter when I fuck the crazy out of you.” Not missing a beat, his thumb immediately found your clit and he began rubbing circles in time to your pumping. You shuddered in pleasure above him, letting out a small whimper. While one hand pumped him you reached up to lean against his shoulder for balance. His face leaned to the side, light stubble that had grown over the day rubbed against you as he kissed at your nearest fingers. “Maybe if you whined like that I'd let you have your way more often." He nibbled at your knuckle, narrowing his eyes as he looked up at you with a devilish smile.  

You gave him one last good squeeze before releasing him from your grip, he let out a disgruntled groan before he saw you climbing your way up the bed, coming to a rest sitting on his chest. 

"Keep talking, Morrison." You slid down to his chin, then to his mouth. You looked down, his icy eyes stared back, something wicked behind them. Strong arms wrapped around your thighs, locking you in place. You could feel him smile, then a wet warm tongue pressed against you. He slid along the length of your slit, circling around your clit as he watched you shiver above him. He put pressure on you, licking the nub back and forth, before moving back to your opening. His tongue swirled around the entrance, dipping in softly, then hooking in as he lapped at you. Your legs were starting to shake, you leaned forward hands dropping above his head to keep your balance. You whined, grinding your hips into his face as his tongue explored everywhere it could. His arms gripped you harder, preventing you from moving. He went harder at you, sucking and making your entire body bounce against him. He moved down again, swirling in you, one hand at your thigh moved to work fingers on your clit. You were breathing hard, it's like he knew exactly how to work your body immediately into a frenzy. If you didn't stop this now you'd be cumming on his face, _and you weren't giving him that satisfaction._   

You grabbed his hair, pulling it backwards. Surprised you stopped him, his arms released your thighs and you pulled your twitching hips in the air above him. You bounced down his body, coming to a rest with your legs on either side of his thighs, watching as he wiped his mouth and looked down towards you. You tried to steady your breath as you gripped at his cock again. His hips moved in time with your hand, thrusting together as you worked him. You rolled your wrist, pumping at him faster. His body froze when he felt your tongue run along his length, but immediately took your mouth away and continued pumping him in your fist. He whined low, hips grinding against the bed then back against your hand. You continued to tease him like this with a drawn out lick but never giving him what he wanted. He propped himself up on his arms to look down at you, this time taking his full length in your mouth in a moan. He leaned hard into his arms holding him up, head swimming in pleasure. When you brought your mouth back up, you sucked and released him with a small pop. He looked down at you again, shaking his head in desperation begging you not to tease him like this when your hand went back to pumping him.   

He glared, grunts becoming more strained, you released his cock from your grip. As you climbed forward on him, he seemed to release a sigh in anticipation of you riding him. Instead, you replaced your hand with your wet folds. Back and forth you rocked covering his cock in your wetness, hitting in just the right way where every downward movement teased your clit. Rubbing his length, you let your hips work on teasing him, you bit your lip holding back your moans.

“At least let me hear how much you're enjoying this.” He begged, you shook your head, moving your hand to cover your mouth so he couldn't hear you. One hand pressed his cock against you to keep it in place and making sure you didn't let him penetrate you, the other muffled your noises. His hands were gripping at anything on your body they could, your name leaving his lips between low mumbled sighs. In a desperate attempt to hear you, he leaned back on one arm bringing the other to press his thumb against your clit again, rubbing around it. You circled in his lap, holding back the moans you know he wanted to hear from working your clit. Becoming more needy as he watched you, you dropped the hand from your mouth and began rolling your nipple between your fingers, reveling in your own pleasure of humping him, and the pressure of his fingers on your clit. Your bit lip still held back noises, but some involuntary gasps escaped you. Looking at him through half lidded eyes you could see his desperation. You let out a half groan, half laugh enjoying the view of Morrison coming undone.

He closed his eyes. Hand at your clit shot up and roughly pulled you towards his face gripping you by the back of the neck, stopping just before your lips met waiting on you to make the final move. Moments of pleasure still grinding against the length of his cock passed, and he opened his eyes to see you still biting at your lower lip. You opened your mouth and brought your face closer, brushing your lips against his. Instead of kissing him, you released the moans he had desperately been waiting to hear. Your breathing was labored, shuttering as you loudly whined against him. You moved your hips, teasing just the head of his cock with your entrance.

“Are you always this wet for the people you hate?” He rolled his hips upwards trusting in you more than you expected, with no resistance from your body. He smiled as your lips opened in a surprised gasp.

 _“Fu-uuck!”_ Finally you fully impaled yourself on him. His girth took you as a surprise once it he was in and you had to steady yourself, gripping onto his strong shoulders. Your eyes wide, you took a few shallow breaths mentally preparing yourself for the next steps.  

Mind burning at all the things he could do to get back at you, he knew from this moment he was taking over. Although you were still sat in his lap, he wrapped his strong arms around around your waist giving him a good grip, not allowing you to take back control. He thrusted underneath you at a wicked pace, not a moment to even catch your breath. As your face bounced in front of him he leaned forward, gently biting your lower lip and stealing the kisses he wanted from you. Mind finally catching up to body, you responded by kissing him deeply, letting the world around you melt away giving in entirely to the sensations of his lips and movements sending your body into overdrive. You tasted yourself on him, and the scotch. Small facial hair scratched against you as you greedily kissed each other.  

Still ramming into you he picked you up, flipping the both of you over so your back was now to the mattress and he was standing off the edge of the bed. He pulled your hips down, your lower half was hanging off. Now plowing deeper into you than before, you opened your mouth to scream in pleasure but nothing came, instead gasps and moans filled the room. His hand wandered over you, down your neck, over your chest, against your scars. With one hand he rolled your nipple between his fingers, the other continuing to play with your clit. His eyes savoring the image beneath him, watching you twitch with need in his grip, feeling victorious over the woman who has been nothing but a pain in the ass for the last couple years. You were no longer holding back your moans, he was riding into you, legs wide apart. Your fingers gripping into his sheets, ruining his perfectly made bed. Your body was straining tight, he could tell you were close and he knew exactly what he needed to send him over the edge. 

He moved both hands to grip at your breasts. Knowing you would be frantic to release, he slowed his pace to almost a grinding halt. You begged him to continue how he was going, chasing that high you knew you needed. He pumped into you now leisurely, feeling your walls twitch around him desperately. Frustrated with his slowing pace, you began working your own clit to build it up again.

“Couldn't handle me poster boy?” You breathed through pleasured sighs. He was smiling, strangely quiet. You twisted from teasing, back to desperate pleasure. "Please Morrison, I'm so close." You continued trying to move your hips to create friction on him.  

He leaned close to you. “Who's your commander?” He growled, low in your ear.

You covered your eyes and stifled a laugh as you came closer to your high, avoiding his question and content to ride this one out on your own now. You mind raced attempting to ignore him, continuing to rut against him. He released your breasts, and ripped your hand away from your clit holding it down against the bed.

Roughly he pulled himself from you. His hands gripped at your hips and flipped you over, forcing your stomach on the bed ass and legs dangling over the edge. You heard him spit, a warm moisture landing on your cheek then rolling towards your pussy. He grabbed a fist full of your hair, pulling your head backwards, and slammed into you hard. You squirmed, breath catching the sound of your heartbeat rushing to your ears. 

“ _I said,”_ He gave another hard thrust. “Who’s your commander?” His voice dangerous, threatening to leave you high and dry. His thrust making you see white, and your mouth dry. You knew this either needed to come now, or it would be ruined and you'd have a knot cramping in you for the rest of the night. You clawed at his comforter, balling your hands into fists and rocking your hips into his.

“Fuck! You are!” You moaned, arching your back, his angle on you hitting exactly where you needed him to. Whining and trying desperately to get yourself off on him, you were almost pleading for him to finish what he started. “Jack Morrison-" You moaned again as you felt him start pumping again. "You are my Strike Commander, _Jack Fucking Morrison!_ ”

Finally his pace heightened again. Still holding your hair, his other hand reached beneath you and ground into your clit while he was slamming into you. Hearing you say that lead him over the edge and as soon as it left your lips. The coil in you burst, burning waves of pleasure shuttered across your skin. He felt your legs and walls twitching, milking him as he released himself in you, filling and riding on the waves of your pleasure that followed. He grunted against you pulsing again and again, never realizing his formal title could ever make him cum this hard. 

Minutes passed before your pussy stopped spasming on him, and his hot breath on your back slowed, panting leading into controlled breathing once again. Once you both were down from your orgasms he let go of your hair, your head dropping heavy to his bed. Leaning over you heavy and sweaty, he ran his hands roughly along your back before slowly pulling himself from you. 

“If you tell anyone about this, I'll tell them your terrible in bed.” You mumbled into the blanket through slow breaths.

He chuckled at your threat. Standing at full height now he admired you laying open to him on his bed, mess between your thighs, your pussy not yet closed and his cum leaking out. He reached down, finger pushing some of his fluid back in, you grunted at his finger entering you again twisting, already sore. You slapped his hand away and flipped over.

“I wouldn't mind seeing you like this more often.” 

“Fuck off.” You said with venom, but flashing him a grin. You pushed your body up to lay in his bed, head against a firm pillow. You closed your eyes, just for another moment trying to focus on your heartbeat.

When you opened your eyes Morrison was sitting on the edge of the bed putting his clothes back on. You were warm, now in an oversized shirt and tucked under blankets. His hair was wet, he smelled like cheap bar soap. It was still dark out, the only light in the room coming from his dim bedside lamp.

"Don't look at me like that, you're the one who fell asleep." He stood, now in a loose top and his well worn underwear.

You took a moment to make sure you weren't light headed, pushing the covers off yourself and standing, eyes searching for your clothes.

He sat back against the bed, watching as you dressed yourself. Throwing his shirt off you, you pulled your own back on.

"You actually can stay the night, if you want." You glanced up at him, shimmying into your pants.

"I just came back for my boots." 

"Sure." He watched as you floated away into the darkness of his living room, belt buckle clicking back on.

A small light from your communicator illuminated a ray in front of you as he watched you pick up your boots. You opened the door out to the hallway, light flooding in behind your silhouette. 

"See you around, Morrison."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love me some Jack Morrison, mm yes I do. I'm also a sucker for enemies/lovers tropes so... ( ͡ʘ ͜ʖ ͡ʘ)


	10. Sthenolagnia, Gabriel Reyes & Jesse McCree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: While Overwatch/Blackwatch is operating  
> Notes: Coworker dynamic, no warnings :)

There was always excitement buzzing when Blackwatch training time overlapped with your team. Since no one never got to see them work in the field, these shared moments were the only brief glimpses into their secretive branch. True, they did have their own workout room in the Blackwatch wing, but from the rumors you heard it was about a fourth of the size of this one, had all the old flattened mats, and was just all around the hand-me-downs of overused Overwatch equipment.

You were waiting on a hard cement bench, a good distance away from the sparring mats waiting for the practice to start. The Blackwatch boys almost always practiced between themselves first showing off any new moves before they tapped in anyone from Overwatch to teach them. Usually it was Genji and McCree to start; But today must have been your birthday and Christmas because out from the locker rooms came a shirtless Commander Reyes, then McCree following close behind in a tight,  _tight_ , tank top. One of your teammates across the room wolf whistled, followed by a different person cheering, then fits of giggles from you and others in the room. The two looked at each other knowingly, before whispering between themselves and setting up on the mats.

McCree was toned and incredibly strong, a burly guy covered in dark body hair. But the commander, oh, Commander Reyes was solid muscle. With every breath you could see a ripple and tense of his abdomen muscles, you were almost convinced he could have been a statue carved of an ancient god come to life to walk among mortals (a bit dramatic maybe, but he is certainly in a league of his own).

“Thanks for sharing the space with us today everyone.” Commander Reyes had such a mesmerizing voice. You don't know how any of his subordinates are able to keep a handle on themselves, listening to him talking through their earpieces when they’re on missions must be very distracting. “Sorry Genji is out on an op, I hope I'm a suitable replacement for him this time.” He was smiling. You heard a mumbled _oh more than suitable_ and a light smacking sound followed by suppressed giggling coming from a group of agents to your right. You leaned back on the wall, sinking down against the bench and covering your own smile behind your hand.

“Now, we heard your complaints last time.” Oh, McCree. That man with his ridiculous cowboy hat, and his ridiculous spurs. “About how ya'll want more _hands on_ help with escapin’ sticky situations.” He removed his ridiculous hat, sending it spinning across the room and landing with a soft thud directly in front of your feet. “I think we can teach ya'll a little somethin’.” Did he just wink at you? Oh god, this was suddenly starting to look like a cheap bachelorette party. You half expected Commander Reyes to rip off pull away pants next. You tried with all your might to blend in with the wall, face burning and biting your lip behind the hand hiding your mouth.

“Agent McCree and I will show you how to escape three different attack positions you may encounter that will pin you, then we’ll partner you up to practice.”

The first move looked simple enough. They showed them a handful of times, facing different directions and going at different speeds so everyone could get a good sense of it. After confirming it was understood, McCree bounced his fingers between everyone pairing them off.  He paired you with the most well built girl on your team, much to your dismay. You put her in the hold first and she broke out embarrassingly (for you) easy. Then, it was your turn to try to break the attack. You struggled against her, taking almost 4 tries before you were sure she just wanted this shit show to be over with and pretended to let you break out.

Everyone switched partners, and your humiliation continued as you attempted and failed to break the holds. Partners continued to rotate until the training was done for the night. You tried your best- but maybe it just wasn’t your night, or maybe those moves were just a little too advanced. All night you felt the eyes of the Blackwatch members silently judging you, and your ears burned red from shame. At the end your arms were exhausted, your neck damp with sweat, and you felt more than a little overwhelmed. As everyone was leaving, Commander Reyes called your last name. You froze in place, then stiffly turned to face him.

“You seemed like you were having a hard time today.” Oh no. Try to focus on his eyes, whatever you do don’t look at Reyes's beautiful, glistening abs.

“It’s okay to ask for help, ya hear me?” Dammit. That V leading into his pants might as well have neon arrows pointing to it after the way your eyes flickered to it. “All ya gotta do is ask.” Your eyes snapped to McCree, now standing next to Commander Reyes, leaning his arm on him, hat in his hand pressed to his chest.

“Mm-hmm!” You were chewing at your lip. What the hell did he just say to you? You weren’t even sure if it was a question, they just stood in silence eyebrows raised at you. McCree elbowed his commander in his rib cage gently.

“Dammit, Gabe! I said not wearin’ a shirt would be a mistake. Distractin’ everyone. Half the people here tonight prolly won’t remember a thing we taught ‘em.” Your eyes widened, realizing they knew you were staring. Can you actually die of embarrassment? It certainly feels possible. Maybe if you didn’t die of embarrassment, you’d die from the burning blush on your face melting your brain.

“I-I’m so sorry about that. What did you just ask me?” You heard the commander chuckle to himself as he shot a glace to McCree.

“Darlin’ I said we’re here to help if ya need it. And I think ya damn well do, considerin’ how tonight went.” You tried to cover your face, hoping if you couldn’t see them maybe they’re just disappear. So they were actually watching you practice, and they definitely saw you completely fail that first move. You peaked an eye between your fingers, unfortunately they were still there staring you down with smirks painted across their faces.

“You’re right. I just… couldn’t do it. Maybe I’m not strong enough?”

“Strength has got nothing to do with it.” You dropped your hand, looking to the commander now picking at your cuticles. “Those moves are designed to take down anyone, even me. You saw how McCree handled it. You just need to learn them.” You nodded your head, eyes shifting to examine McCree’s muscular arms.

“I promise I’ll practice them with my unit.” Sheepishly you looked back and forth between both of them.

“I think it’d be better learnin’ from the masters.” McCree jokingly poked his hat towards you. “Say, we have some open time after dinner tomorrow and we’d love to have ya. ‘Course you’d have to come to our train’ room, since this ’ns already called for.”

“We’ll show you exactly what you need." The commander paused, biting his lip for a brief moment. "You’ll have me against the mat in no time.” Commander Reyes licked his lips then smiled down at you and your mind went right off the deep end- you felt crazy for even thinking that could possibly mean anything other than training. You let out a nervous laugh, backing out of the room with finger guns awkwardly shaking at them.

“Ha-ha, alright, yup I’ll just see you both tomorrow then!”

Once the automatic door cut off your sight you raced to your room, locking yourself in and screaming against your pillow mortified at the stupid impression you must have made on them.

* * *

 

You spent the entire next day on edge, mind racing with the thoughts of all the ways you could possibly embarrass yourself if you trained with them.

Worst case scenario #1, you accidentally do their moves wrong, break your arms, spend a couple months in shame in the hospital wing. Worst case scenario #2, you pull off the move perfectly, surprising both of them and sending each into cardiac arrest then and there killing them on the spot. Worst case scenario #3, your nightmares finally make their way into the waking world and you somehow forget all your clothes, get all the way to the Blackwatch training room, and only realize you’ve been in your birthday suit when you see them. On and on your mind raced, each scenario worst than the last. 

You were groaning over your dinner having not touched a bite, trying desperately to come up with an excuse to avoid training, but unable to come up with anything close to believable. You stared at your food longer than you’ve ever looked at food before in your life. You stared so long the cafeteria got uncomfortably empty and quiet. You stared so long you finally got a message on your communicator from Jesse McCree with just a question mark. You threw your food away, heading towards the Blackwatch wing with resolve that you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself.

* * *

 

You’d never been in the Blackwatch wing before. Well, you shouldn't say wing really, more an extended hallway it was. The first thing you passed was their cafeteria, much smaller than the one for Overwatch. Eyes of judgmental Blackwatch agents followed you down the hall. Suddenly you’ve never felt more out of place; Everyone here was in black clothes, covered in scars, and here you were timidly searching for their training room in your bright blue and white uniform, horrible clashing against the pink streaked across your cheeks. All the way at the very end of the hall through above of heavy double doors was the word ‘TRAINING’. You poked in, more doors to each direction. ‘LOCKERS’ read the one directly in front of you, ‘SHOOTING RANGE’ to the right, and ‘GYM’ to the left. When you opened the gym door it creaked loudly, a jubilant announcement of your arrival. Commander Reyes and McCree stood atop training mats already placed on the ground, equipment around them pushed to the edges of the room.

The rumors weren’t kidding, their training room was horrible, this really did look like an equipment graveyard. The room was way smaller, mirrors on the walls had small sections shattered where something or someone hit them. Aside from the door you entered in, there was one on the other side of the room with the chipped symbol painted on it indicating it was a restroom.

“We were beginning to think you wouldn’t show.” Commander Reyes had a shirt on today, thankfully, but that didn’t stop his muscles from bulging through.

“I almost didn’t.” You tried to stop a nervous laugh. “I-I mean I appreciate the help, it’s just, I’m scared I won’t be able to do it.” You cut yourself off, end of thought. Don’t say anything stupid.

“We’ll walk ya through it, nothin’ to worry ‘bout.” McCree made his way to you, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders squeezing you close to his side. Whiffs of cigar smoke and American cologne hit you. “Let’s get to work, hmm?” He tipped his hat down at you then spun it towards an exercise machine, landing on the handle perfectly holding it in place.

“Stop showing off, Jesse. She’s not here for your party tricks.”

“‘Course, sir.” Okay, he definitely winked at you that time. He turned his back to the Commander before turning to get in place for practice. You pushed out a breath you'd been holding for way too long. 

You watched them practice the first move from yesterday again, McCree breaking out of the hold and Reyes ending up on the mat. They explained where to hold your weight, where to hit, when to hit. You nodded as you watched, taking detailed mental notes.

Commander Reyes announced he wanted to see you practice the move with McCree first. He stood back as you adjusted yourself to try to get in exactly the right position, but once you got started you still somehow missed the mark over and over again. Every time you tried it was slow, methodical. You were getting frustrated, McCree was getting annoyed. Finally the commander spoke up.

“Come here, Jesse.” McCree rolled his eyes, letting go of you. “You’re thinking about it too much.” Commander Reyes was hulking towards you, McCree took as many wide steps back as he could to give you two room. Reyes didn’t give you time to process, the Commander grabbed you harder than McCree had been pulling at your arms and locking them in place behind your back. Your body reacted with a rush of adrenaline, you swung wildly, and then before you knew what was happening there was an echoing thud, hard against the mats and the commander of Blackwatch on the floor with labored breathing looking up at you from them. A split moment of panic went through you, thinking you must have injured him somehow for you to have done that so easily.

“You sly minx. You’ve known how to do that all along haven’t ya?” McCree’s voice was bright, bringing you back to reality, now processing that you actually did the move. “I’d venture to say she just wanted to get us alone, Gabe.” Your eyes shot to him in disbelief, mouth hanging open.

“If I knew how to do that I wouldn’t have embarrassed myself in front of my whole team!” You felt the mats shifting as Commander Reyes stood.

“Good, so we’ll continue to practice that and the other two from yesterday.” He didn’t give you another chance to think about it, instead pulling you into another grapple. You struggled, but after a few tries were now able to escape each of the tricks. You switched between McCree and the commander, each time boosting your confidence and each time getting easier. You felt strong knowing you could take down even the men made of stone.

You weren’t even sure how long you’d been in there by the time you were being congratulated for getting all the moves perfected, at least an hour you guessed. You stood hands on your hips, breathing labored but smiling as you thought about the progress you made in such a short amount of time.

“Now darlin’ there’s some other moves we’d like to try out before we bring ‘em in for training with your team.” McCree put a hand on your shoulder. Through the cracked mirror on the wall you looked into Commander Reyes’s eyes. “But it takes 3 people, an’ we won’t have Genji here for a while.”

“Only if you want to, of course. We can find someone else if you’re not interested.” Reyes crossed his arms.

“What kind…?” You weren’t even sure what to ask. Were you reading too much into this? Suddenly your body felt hot again.

“We’d only practice one, tonight. It’s teaching you how to get out of a headlock while another person has your legs.” Oh, okay he actually did mean more training moves. You tried to push whatever made you think they’d insinuate anything else to the back of your mind.

“I don’t mind.” You said turning your head to look at McCree. You smiled at him, excited at the chance to learn something new before everyone else. McCree smiled back, a little too big. Immediately he put you in a headlock, you went to swing your legs beneath him but the commander dove to grab at your ankles. You couldn't move, your feet pinned to the ground under his strong grip. 

“If this was real, how would you break out of this?” Commander Reyes called up to you from the floor. You were squirming, pulling at McCree’s strong forearms.

“Umm..” You gasped out, eyes wide looking around. You _don’t know_   what you’d actually do. Panicked, brain trying to come up with ways to escape you did the first thing that came to your mind.

“Ow, fuck Gabe, she bit me!” McCree released you, stepping back from the unexpected reaction. You fell back, no longer being held behind and heavy weight pulling at you from below. McCree realized right before you hit the ground he didn’t mean to let you go, his whole body cringed as you hit the mat. The force of the fall released an involuntary moan from your lungs. Tense moments of silence passed before you laughed, realizing that you just bit your way out of a combat hold.

“Oh god-” You couldn’t stop giggling. “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry McCree.” He started laughing with you. “I don’t know why I did that.” Commander Reyes let go of your legs, sitting up. You tried to catch your breath, regaining control. “Are you alright?” You let out a few more chuckles.

“Yeah, I’ll be just fine.” He left the smile on his lips after his own giggle fit passed.

You saw McCree and the commander sharing knowing glances. Reyes took your hands, helping you up off the mats. You took McCree’s arm, inspecting the bite mark. Next to you Reyes touched the mark to make sure it wasn’t deep. Yeah, he’d be just fine, the mark was barely visible on his muscled skin. Slowly McCree wrapped his arms around your neck again, preparing for a choke hold. Reyes backed up, watching you both carefully. 

"No bitin' this time, understood?" 

"Yes, sir." You mumbled as you brought your hands around his forearms. You gently squeezed at them, feeling the hard muscle tensing against you. You switched your footing, trying to adjust your stance if Reyes goes for your ankles again. Instead you accidentally bumped against McCree, hitting something hard. He bragged about the name once, Peace Keeper you think he called it. You know even as part of Blackwatch they still had to follow the same rule as Overwatch with weapons: not on your person unless you're in the shooting range or on a mission. "Why do you have your gun on you right now?"  

You looked up, the two men were staring at each other. It actually kind of creeped you out, it felt like they were talking but you couldn’t hear the conversation. McCree breathed out, releasing you and looking down at you. 

“Listen, darlin’. We haven’t exactly been fair to you.” He was avoiding your question, you wondered if Reyes knew about his weapon already and just didn't care or if you just got McCree in a load of trouble. 

“You haven't even told me how to get out of it yet, of course it wasn't fair.” You shrugged, turning to face McCree.

“No, ‘bout why we wanted you here train’ with us.”

“We did need to improve your form.” Reyes chimed in. 

“Oh yeah, no, you desperately needed that.” Wow, rude you thought. “But we were hopin’ you’d agree to somethin’ else too.” Your heart stopped. Suddenly the noise of the overhead lights was buzzing right into your brain, the squeaking sound of the mats against the linoleum floor below amplified as they shuffled in place. That hard lump in his pants is  definitely not gun shaped, realization was sinking in. 

“And what…” Please be exactly what you’re thinking. “Exactly…” No, there’s no way in hell, what are they chances both of these muscular men would be into you? “Were you both hoping?”

They glanced at each other again. McCree opened his mouth, but no words came out. Pink glowing across his cheeks, he pushed his hands through his hair off of his face. Commander Reyes leaned towards him, you thought to say something to McCree.

OH! No, that’s not talking. Reyes was leaned in close, kissing McCree hand cupped around the back of his neck. McCree was resting his hand against the front of his pants. Their eyes were closed seeming to forget you were, or ever was, in the room with them. Both of their breathing became labored, the vein on the commanders neck pulsed quickly. After a few moments, McCree pushed the commanders chest gently forcing him to lean away, lips now glistening they looked towards you.

“We were hoping-” Commander Reyes paused. You were failing to suppress a smile, biting down on a hooked finger, eyes glittering with excitement. You were right, _this whole damn time!_ You’ve never been this turned on from vindication. Reyes took McCree’s hand from his chest, guiding it to cup your face, his own hand slid to rest against the crook of your neck. They were only touching your face and neck, but they might as well have been touching your whole body. You felt warm, you felt safe, you felt like there was no one else in the world other than you three. 

“May I?” McCree's nose was touching yours. You could feel his breath against your lips, shaky with nerves. When did he get so close? Reyes could probably feel your heartbeat racing. You exhaled a happy laugh and pressed your lips to his, arms hooking around his neck in a tight hug. Heart fluttering and every part of your body tingling, this didn't feel real- maybe you hit your head too hard on the fall and now you were having a fever dream. 

McCree's muscular arms wrapped around you, lifting you until your feet were no longer touching the ground and you were the same height, your body pressed flushed to his. Reyes moved behind you, hands on your hips slowly traveling down the backs of your thighs. Carefully he parted your legs, hooking his hands under your knees and bringing your legs around McCree's hips. Your hold around his neck tightened as your full body weight clung to McCree. He moved a hand to your ass, pushing you up a little to stabilize you. Your body shook for a brief moment thinking you were about to fall back to the ground.

“We've got you.” Reyes moved your hair, kissing up from the base of your neck to your hair line. He was pressed against you now and you leaned back onto him, sandwiched between the two men. Dazed, you pulled your head from McCree to say something to the commander, turning your face to him you were met with his lips. You've never kissed anyone like this before, passionate to a point where you couldn't think straight. McCree kissed against your stretched neck, you moaned against the commanders mouth and pushed your hips against McCrees. Reyes pulled from you, body grinding against you.

“So, should we take that as a yes?”

“Hell yes. But only if we can lock that door.” You sounded more out of breath now than you did during training, nodding your head to the gym entrance. Reyes moved away from you, McCree let you drop your legs so you could stand on your own before letting go. The commander- or Gabe? Could you call him Gabe now? Whatever, the commander showed you he locked the door with a heavy switch, he looked up at the ceiling, then flipped some of the switches off, the room going from fluorescent bright to soft glow. They both began removing their clothes, you followed dropping everything beneath you.

“So before we do this, I just want to check. Am I getting involved in the middle of something serious between you two?” They looked at each other, McCree almost bursting into laughter.

“Oh no, sugar. Gabe and I do a lot of _talkin’_ when we're out on missions with nothin’ better to do. We're... what's the word?” You raised an eyebrow at him, looking back at Reyes.

“Casual, Jesse.”

“Yeah, 'sactly. Casual. Blackwatch ain't a place to find love.” He was leaned in towards you, smiling. “But it is a hell of a place for some _company_.” Hmm, maybe you should put in a Blackwatch transfer request, Overwatch was starting to feel like a monastery compared to all this. There was a beat of silence, both men looking between themselves and back at you with burning eyes.

“Can I watch, first?” You suddenly felt just a little more naked. Reyes chuckled, bringing McCree’s strong body closer.

“Let's give her a show.” He whispered against McCree's patchy beard. The way they kissed was like they were angry with each other, one trying to outdo the other. When they parted they were both blushing, McCree's eyes locking onto yours as Reyes dropped to his knees in front of him. You couldn't see Reyes taking McCree into his mouth, but what you did see was McCree immediately overcome with lust. Every muscle on his body tightened, toes curled against the mat. Arms flexed as one moved to play with the curls of the commanders hair. You could hear wet sucking noises and small grunts coming from Reyes, and McCree must have loved whatever was going on down there because his eyes were fluttering losing their focus.

You were leaned up against on old bench press, one hand at your mouth with a finger between your teeth, other dropping low. McCree tried to focus his gaze on you.

“Open up those legs sweetheart, I wanna tell Gabe what you're doin’.” Both your knees immediately fell to the floor. He gripped his fingers into the commanders hair. “She's touching herself, Gabe. Bitin’ one hand, rubbin’ herself with the other. Looks so cute like that, blushin’ pretendin’ like she's never seen a man suck a dick before-”

“McCree!” This was the first time, in person at least.

“You should see her now, all embarrassed like she was yesterday. I reckon she might be just as flustered. It's alright darlin’ you just keep lookin’ at me, keep on with what you're doin’. Oh, you look so pretty.” He sighed, bringing Reyes deeper onto him, you heard him choke just a little. “She's got a finger in now. Oh, you'd love this, looks like she could use some loosenin’ up. She's teasin’, I can see it in her eyes. I think she wants to take both of us, ain't that right sugar?”

“Ah-yeah, yes.” You shoved a second finger in, pumping and scissoring trying desperately to work yourself.

“I think I need you to-” He was cut off by a gasp, closing his eyes he regained composure. “I'm gonna need you to show us exactly where you want us.” You removed your fingers, then moved to your knees, turning and leaning against the bench press with your back towards McCree.

“Fuck, Gabe she's bent over, spreadin’ that cute pussy. Where else do you want us sweetheart?” You took your hand from under you, moving to spread your cheeks. One finger circled at your rim, gently pushing in testing yourself. McCree moaned leaning into Reyes. “She really wants us. Got a finger in her ass, she's so wet I can see it from here.” You looked into a cracked mirror, a glimpse of Reyes showed you he was intensely staring up at McCree hanging on every word, fist pumping himself while he worked McCree with his mouth. Reyes glanced to the side and caught your eyes through the mirror. “Ah- she's really goin’ at it now, stuffin’ herself, gettin’ ready for us.”

Reyes wasn't breaking eye contact with you. You saw his mouth hanging open, dragging a tongue along McCree's cock. Whatever McCree was saying behind you was getting muffled as you lost focus on everything else except Reyes. He paused, replacing his lips with his hand, mouthing _come here_ at you through the mirror. You obeyed, standing and heading towards the two. 

“Oh, well what's this now?” You lowered yourself next to Reyes in front of McCree. Reyes kissed you, as he was grunting still pumping his own cock. His other hand reached behind you, grabbing at your ass and squeezing, one finger reaching to press against your hole. You gasped as he pushed in, his finger much thicker than your own. Reyes took the opportunity to pull away, almost instantly replaced with McCree's cock pushing against your lips.

You took McCree into your mouth with a muffled moan. You wanted to touch him feel his powerful body, your hands ran along his thighs memorizing every strained muscle. Your mouth around him was unfocused, messy, as you were consumed by the thoughts of his body. A second thick finger made its way into your ass, pushing and stretching you, pressure building with each drag along your inner walls. McCree was squirming now, low moans escaping as he watched you suck on him and Reyes pumping fingers in you. He placed a hand on your shoulder, pushing you off him gently.

“This is a pretty sight 'n all...” You looked up, not realizing how hard he was blushing. He ran a hand over your face, pushing loose hairs out of the way. Your mouth continued to hang open, gasping as Reyes worked you. He looked to McCree, taking the hint that he wanted to move on and removed his fingers from you.

Now empty, your body tried to search for any stimulation, hips leaning towards Reyes greedily rocking in the air. Your hands moved up McCree's legs past his hips and through the thick hair covering his chest. Shaking, you brought yourself up until you were standing face to chest with McCree. He wrapped his burly arms around you, pulling you up off the ground again. This time before your feet left the ground you pushed off with a small jump, bringing your legs up to hook around his hips while your arms circled his neck.

You landed a little low on his body your hips just missing, met with the tops of his thighs. Reyes stood behind you, one hand pushed against the back of your thigh to help you to the right place, the other dipping two fingers in your pussy surprising you and making your body jump up just a little. Hands were all over your ass and legs adjusting you to the right place, everything felt like a blur, you were almost unsure which ones belonged to who. McCree was whining, low and loud against you as he lowered you onto his cock. Every inch filled you completely, pulsing in you as he pushed his full length. Large rough hands kneaded at your ass.

“Love those sounds you're makin’. You feel so good 'round me. She's so tight Gabe-” He was cut off by a gasp as you bounced gently on him. Reyes impatiently lined himself behind you, body pressed against your back.

“Ready?” His voice was deep, right against your ear.

“Yes-” You whined out between McCree’s thrusts. Reyes pushed into you, slowly. You felt a burn as he stretched you past anything you’ve taken before. McCree had slowed to shallow thrusts, allowing you to adjust to having both of them in you. McCree was longer, but Reyes was thicker and you could feel every detail of him as he entered. You tried to gasp, instead your chest shook heart almost jumping through your throat. The feeling of being stuffed like this was new and excruciatingly satisfying.

You rolled your head, leaning back against Reyes’s chest. Gravity forced you down on both of them harder than you ever thought would be physically possible. They held you between them, pinning you between their bodies hard with muscles grinding against you. McCree leaned down mouth open to kiss you. Right as you brought your head up, he smiled and snapped up instead locking his lips on Reyes. You whined in disappointment from the tease.

They continued doing all the work for you, rocking in unison, dropping and pushing in pressed against each other through your walls. You cried out between them watching the men practically devour each other. A hand from behind you moved to cup your chest, grabbing and grinding, pulling at your nipple. You tried to squirm, but only sunk deeper against them forcing out a high pitched moan when they bottomed out. Their movements were getting more frantic, paces no longer matching. Their lips parted above you, McCree leaned down this time taking you against his mouth. You were absolutely consumed by them, sweaty and panting as you squeezed your eyes shut no longer able to focus on anything around you.

Waves of pleasure started hitting you unexpectedly. McCree was hitting your g-spot over and over again. Hands were wandering all over your body, brushing against your nipples, roughly rolling on your clit, squeezing at your thighs, everything was becoming a blur. You said something, mind too foggy to comprehend what the words were. Reyes grunted in response, driving into you faster, hips snapping roughly against your backside.

McCree’s body was twitching, muffled groans against your collarbone as he pulsed in you. Your body responded by squeezing against him clamping down as you rocked, sending white hot pleasure through every nerve. McCree continued shallow pumps as beads of cum were pushed from you, his tip giving one final grind then pulling out followed by his thick fluids.

Your inner thighs clenched against him with the last wave of your own orgasm, your hole pinching Reyes in you. You were shaking, breathing hard against McCree as he held you in place for Reyes to finish. Reyes grumbled something, and when you didn’t respond McCree leaned forward again kissing him hard, biting and sucking his lower lip. They pressed against you almost cutting off your ability to breathe, as Reyes shot heat filling you throbbing. Every hard ridge of his body against your back flexed through hard thrusts. He stayed in you while he was catching his breath, pressing his forehead against against the back of your head, until he finally pulled himself from you with a wet pop.

McCree backed up, slowly letting you lower your legs to stand on your own again. Reyes held your hips until you balanced on shaky legs, but without McCree’s support you fell back leaning your body weight against the commander. Shit, your body was exhausted. Your legs shook uncontrollably as you leaned against Reyes, his arms around you tight in a hug. Drops of liquid slowly made their way down your thighs, a reminder of the now empty feeling you were left with.

“Can we keep this one Gabe? I like ‘er.” McCree was leaning back against another broken machine, eyes closed enjoying his afterglow.

“I like her too.” Reyes was still pressed against your ear. God, his voice. You’d do just fine hearing him on every mission, you thought. You were definitely putting in a Blackwatch transfer request after this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Updated 11/8, went back and corrected some of my weird time skips/phrasing, hopefully it's a little clearer now!


	11. Hair Pulling, Lúcio Correia dos Santos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: Reader is a dancer on tour with DJ Lúcio  
> Notes: Short, this one is nothing but smut! :)
> 
> *I'm going to be coming back to this one to rewrite it, looking back on it now I don't like it and want to expand on his story. Sorry for the halfhearted story, I will make it right!

Being a dancer on a world tour wasn’t so bad, Lúcio always put on a great show. There was something almost intoxicating the way dancing during his shows made you feel. Maybe it was the darkened rooms with colorful dim lights, the fogged air, each beat rocking you through the floor- or maybe it was because you felt his eyes on you all night. Lúcio was always nice, overly nice some would say, in any other setting. But afterwards? Well, after the show was your favorite part. After his shows his body would be running on pure adrenaline, all gentlemanly aspects of his normal personality replaced with needy insatiable wanting until he could release.   

In the venue’s greenroom after each concert Lúcio would wait for you, riding a natural high from the crowd. Sometimes he would even get started before you made it back to him, pumping a fist on himself. Sometimes he'd be exhausted and you find him passed out with his headphones covering his eyes. Sometimes he would be insatiable, going round after round in the greenroom, then taking you back to the hotel for the night and not stopping until the sun rose. Each time you found him it was a surprise.

   

Tonight you opened the door clad in your usual strappy bodysuit and thigh high boots, one of his songs playing from a speaker near him. He was sitting on a hideous stained couch that clearly has been here a couple years too long. Standing in front of him, you swung a leg up on a cushion, bent knee pressed against the side of his face. He kissed at any skin he could find, hands immediately grabbed you fingers working on your laces. 

“You looked great tonight.” He was smiling up at you.

“You sounded great tonight.” Same script every gig, it never got old.

He pulled off the boot, throwing it across the room. Reaching up Lúcio pulled the top of the bodysuit down, exposing you and squeezing your chest in impatience. Other boot off you turned and sat in his lap, grinding down against him. He was already hard, moving against you as you circled your hips above him.         

Lúcio grabbed your hair twirling it in his fist, locking it around his hand. He pulled your head back, moan escaping through your open mouth. You lifted your hips, hovering above his lap while he pulled himself from his pants. Fingers hooked at the bottom of your bodysuit around an already obvious wet spot. He lined himself with you, snapping his hips hard, entering you in one big motion. He pulled your hair back further, forcing you to look up to the ceiling.

You bounced against him, hair pulled behind you his other hand grabbed and played with your breast, nipple sensitive against his soft hands. A tight knot already building, you lifted your head to get even more resistance from him.

You heard him cheer behind you, bright voice filling the room. He turned up the speaker at his side, playing one of his fast paced songs. Beneath you his hips thrusted and danced in time to the beat, you could feel the couch beneath you swaying with his movements. In and out, he was unfocused now consumed in the pace of his music and the heat he felt around him. Grinding against him harder, you brought your fingers to work your clit.

He was really wound up tonight- probably from the teasing moves you slipped into your routine during his show. While you had been in front of the booth your body rolling with his music, Lúcio bobbed his head ear to headphone watching from behind you. Your hand grazed along the length of your slit pushing on the fabric so he could see just how excited you were about tonight's _after show event_. All evening you teased him like this, just outside of the view from the crowd.

Now he grunted beneath you, hand at your chest squeezing, hips driving hard against you bouncing you in his lap moaning with the fist full of your hair. You rolled your eyes back, letting the pleasure wash over you. Swollen clit pulsing hard beneath your fingers as your walls twitched around him. Your legs shaking, threatening to give out underneath you, Lúcio moved the hand at your chest to your hips to help you balance as you came around him. You were hot and tight as you panted over the final wave of your orgasm, dropping your head back he unraveled his fingers from your hair.

With a groan he quickly pulled himself from you then pressed his cock against your back, pulsing hard shooting warm liquid up your back and into your hair, covering your one piece. He rocked lightly against you, then turned to shut off his speaker. Now in silence you could hear him breathing hard, body finally calming down.

“Sorry ‘bout that!” He chuckled again. “I’ll wash that one for you.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This dynamic has probably been done before. Sorry it's completely cliche and way way way shorter than the others, I'm working on some other special stuff! ;)


	12. Object Insertion, Reinhardt Wilhelm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: Takes place while Overwatch is operating  
> Notes:

You had a meeting soon. Daily briefings started at 8am on the dot, and here you were pinned against Reinhardt’s desk at 7:30. He’d been riding into you for the last half hour, you were muffling your moans against your hand hoping no one outside his office would hear you. He was cheeky this morning, refusing to let you touch yourself, then right as you were just about over the edge, he pulled himself from you and pushed into the tight ring at your ass.

He was always rougher when he took you this way, knowing he could push himself to his full length there, rather than hitting the barrier of your cervix. You loved the way he felt inside you, he fit perfectly, as if your body was specially made just for him. He was speaking in German above you, telling you he was close, that he had a special surprise, calling you his favorite pet name. Then a low moan rumbled from him, with a final hard thrust as he drove your body against his desk.      

Pulling himself from you thick cum trailed behind, slowly making its way out. Reinhardt clicked his tongue at you, lifting your hips and using a finger to tease at the hole again. From his drawer he pulled a glistening metal object with a bright pink jewel on the end. You breathed out, body still shaking. Slowly he pushed in you, sore muscles tightening against it. Between his girth and the cum still in you, your body took it easily sliding past the widest point and closing around the end. You were groaning at the new heavy sensation. He leaned in close to you, lips against your ears.

“People will talk if we’re late to our briefing.” He stood, wiping himself against your thighs. “We’ll finish this later tonight. Until then, I expect you to be _patient_ my little mausebär.” Tissue in hand he rubbed it along your legs and up around the plug, trying to erase every ghost of fluids sticking to your skin.

As gently as you could, you slid down off the desk placing your feet on the ground again. The plug pressed in you hard, your knees almost gave out beneath you; It was going to be a long day. Reinhardt was already halfway dressed, quickly putting himself together for the meeting with the team. He picked your uniform off the floor, placing it into your hands and kissed your forehead.

His jacket was on, thick fingers now straightening out the pins attached as he left the room with a glace that said _don’t you dare be late_. You knew he’d head out before you did, timing your arrivals to not arouse suspicion.

Now alone you moved to pull on your clothes, jerking with every movement of your hips. Once you were fully dressed you walked around the room slowly, testing the pressure as you moved. The thought of Reinhardt still being inside you, and the denied orgasm made you pulse around the plug. You gasped out a moan leaning against his desk; This was going to be impossible.

The trek to the meeting room was almost torturous. Every step seemed to stuff it further into you. In the elevator you leaned against the wall, desperately trying not to think about beads of cum making its way past the plug and into your panties.

 

You were last to the meeting, at 7:59 just in time. A worried teammate leaned over to you as Lieutenant Wilhelm greeted everyone in his bolstered voice. You were leaning in your seat awkwardly, not wanting to put any pressure on the end of the plug.  

“Hey are you feeling okay? Your face is all red and you’re sweating.” She whispered to you, offering a sip from her water bottle.

“I’m fine, just thought I was going to be late.” You wiped your forehead. “I was running?” She shot you a weird look, raising an eyebrow.

“No, if you’re sick you should go. Wilhelm’s pretty understanding about that kind of stuff.” You pressed your face into your hands; She was so sincere it hurt.

“I promise, I’m fine.” _It’s just, I have our lieutenants cum in my ass and a plug to keep it there so he can fuck my brains out later, you see_. You tried to smile at her hoping it was convincing enough. Her look of concern was unchanged. You tried to wave her off. “I’ll stay after this and let him know I’m feeling kind of bad.” She leaned back, turning attention to the meeting but continued to side eye you, worried.

Wilhelm was all laughs and smiles through the meeting, as he usually is. Every agents day plan was discussed, talk of an upcoming mission everyone was preparing for, and a happy birthday to one of your teammates. All of which you could not focus on, your eyes only followed Wilhelm, catching glimpses that to everyone else looked like he was just smiling, but to you he smirked, happy to see you trying to force yourself to act normal.

After an hour, the meeting broke and the team began heading out to get started working for the day. Your teammate patted you on the shoulder before she left telling you get some rest. When everyone else was gone, and just you and him were left in the room you tried to let out a frustrated grunt but it came out as an uncontrolled moan.

“All day?” You were already so wet, if you moved in the wrong way you were sure it might spiral into an orgasm. He lifted your chin, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

“You look so cute like this, I almost can’t control myself.” That damn smile. He fluffed his hair a bit, breathing out your name. “We both have work to do.” He placed a hand at the small of your back, pushing you gently towards the door as you let out another whine.

* * *

 

Today was the one day you were over the moon about doing desk work instead of practice. Everyone was researching different aspects of the location you’d be traveling to in a couple weeks, you sat scrolling through screens of maps when your teammate came up to you.

“He wouldn’t let you leave?” Your eyes snapped up to her. “He told me to take two days off because I _sneezed_ a couple weeks ago.”

“No-!” You tried to search for any lie you could. “No, he actually said I could go. But honestly, I don’t think I need to, especially since we’re doing the easy work today.”  

“Your face is still red! You might have a fever.” You shifted in your seat hitting the end of the plug, a shock of heat bolted through you. You slapped your hands to your face, covering it and bit your lip holding back any noises. She stared at you horrified, then scoffed and looked towards the lieutenant. “I’m telling him you’re not working today. You look like you’re about to pass out.” And with that, she was off heading towards him.  

Moments later an oversized hand was on your shoulder, fingers rubbing at the base of your neck. He leaned in close, voice low so no one else would hear.

“It seems my little mausebär could not keep a handle on herself.” You tried to breathe normally, knowing your teammate was watching from a few tables away. “Wait for me in my room.” You turned to him nodding your head, he squeezed at your shoulder then let go and walked away. You waved at your teammate then awkwardly stumbled your way out the room and through the halls.

Before you went to his room you detoured to stop at yours for clean clothes to wear after tonight. The hall to his room was busy with other higher ranked officers heading through during their lunch hour, you waited until it was all clear to slip into Reinhardt’s room. Alone with a few hours to kill, you started testing your limits.

You sat rocking against the plug, feeling it move within you and push against your walls in different ways. Pants off you made yourself comfortable on his bed, pulling lightly at the end of the plug, some cum dripping out. You adjusted the position of it in you, jeweled end flush against your hole- then, you waited. You tried to distract yourself with your communicator, with the news, with anything, but still slowly soaked through your panties.

* * *

 

Reinhardt opened the door at exactly 4:15. You were spread across his bed, clothes already off, laid on your back with hands against your stomach just trying to focus on your breathing.   

“Please Rein, I can’t take it anymore.” You were begging, almost on the verge of sobbing. Your muscles were pulsing around the plug, pussy desperately empty. He didn’t need anything more than that to bring him right to your level. By the time his pants were down his thick cock was already pumping in his fist, rock hard just from the sight of you. He pulled your legs off the bed, forcing the air out of your lungs as the plug jostled around.

He rocked against you, hitting his tip on your clit. Your body twitched, immediately back on the edge. You whined, rolling your hips to try to push him in you. He took the hint, pressing against your entrance. As he entered you, you could feel the pressure between him and the plug, his girth shifting the plugs position.

He pumped in you, holding back his full length. A large finger circled at your clit, driving your body into a frenzy. Heat rippled through you, your head felt like it was a thousand miles away into the sky. You felt so full. Your mind went white, as your body whimpered through an orgasm.

Reinhardt continued to pump through you, working your clit fast. Your body was shaking in the aftershocks as he started building you back up again. He looked so damn gleeful holding himself above you. He pulled out of you, teasing again at your entrance. You groaned, twisting your hips to push down. Instead, he grabbed you, flipping you over and pulled your ass in the air. Bright pink jewel bobbed in you as your body tried to hold onto anything it could.

He plunged right back in, pumping and making an effort to rut against the plug in you. The knot was tightening again, driving you towards the edge with gasping sobs of pleasure. He pulled himself, hoping to keep you aching for him. You whined into his bed, pushing your hips further in the air.

Two fingers pushed back into you, swirling and pressing against the plug through your wall. His other hand pulled gently at the plug, teasing by pulling it to the widest point, then letting it sink back into you. His fingers curled in you. Around the plug the fluid it had been holding in you was now rolling down your skin. You thought you were going to scream, you needed him in you _now_.

He pulled the plug completely out letting you breathe for a moment, body now adjusting back to emptiness. Then he rocked against you, cock entering your ass with no resistance. The first chance he got he was full to the hilt, burying himself deep and growling. His skin was hot against you, the sheer size of him stretching you again.

He drove into you fast, your body reacting by tightening around him. You brought your fingers to your clit, shaking and pulling at it as you pressed into his mattress. You dipped a finger in, pressing against your wall to feel him on the other side. Heat bubbled through your body again, releasing in a burst as your body spasmed around him. Reinhardt grabbed your shoulders, bringing you down hard, forcing you to ride through your high as he shot in you. Your entire body felt like it was vibrating, static but pulsing. He stayed in you, throbbing out the final ropes of his own orgasm.

When he pulled from you, a small flood gushed down your legs, your hole slowly closing with his exit. He heaved above you, running his hands down your back then up again in a gentle message. You _mmmd_ at him, the heartbeat in your ears getting softer.

After a quick clean up Reinhardt swept you in his arms, kissing you and beaming a smile. You giggled, after being put back on your feet changed into your clean clothes and climbed into bed to fall asleep against his chest.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Two chapters today, hope that makes up for how short they are! :) 
> 
> Mausebär is a German petname for mouse-bear, a madeup (I think?) animal.


	13. Licking, Hanzo Shimada

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: Takes place before Overwatch, Hanzo & Genji are still with the Shimada Clan  
> Notes: Alcohol mention, not exactly sure how to add this but dragons are involved in the hot and heavy stuff

It was raining, again. Steel skies hung over Hanamura as you sat with Hanzo on a covered balcony of the Shimada estate overlooking the city. It had become routine, to meet each other here after you came over to practice kendo. You stumbled on him out here by accident one day after practice, both of you sweaty and overheating and looking for a quiet place to cool down. It took him a while to talk to you. Although you're not associated with the Shimada, Hanzo began to open up about the expectations his clan pressured on him with you. He spoke in vague terms, skirted around issues you knew he couldn’t speak to an outsider about, but you could fill in the gaps. He was guarded, but this little glimpse into his life gave you some sort of explanation for the way he acted.    

Today you sat close together leaned against the wall, just out of view should anyone look out the window if they were walking by. Both of you were still in your practice uniforms, black with long pleated skirts tied at your waists. Hanzo had shrugged off his top, his upper half now exposed to the air cooling off from practice. You breathed in the smell of rain wetting the wood around you, turning your head to look at Hanzo.  

“Your hair is getting too long.” Slicked back into a low ponytail, his hair rested over his shoulder. He snorted in response, playfully pulling at the ends to examine the length.

“Perhaps you are right.” He dropped his hands to his lap and you smiled leaning your head against his shoulder, staring out absentmindedly to the rain. He dropped his head against yours, taking a few minutes to enjoy the rain and far away rolls of thunder with you, a rare moment of peace. His fingers nervously played with the knot around his waist, wanting to grab your hand and take it in his, but he knew he couldn't. He's not like his brother, can't afford to get distracted; Has has to stay focused.

“You seemed upset in practice.” Your voice was quiet.

“Family matters.” He sounded annoyed. “Genji’s behavior continues to make my life harder.”

“Anything you can tell me about?” You played with the fabric of your skirt.

“Only that he thinks partying is more important than family duties.” He sucked in a breath. “He hasn’t been home in three days.”

This wasn’t the first time this has happened. A few months ago Genji ran away for a week. Hanzo was a wreck by the time you were training with him, bloodshot eyes sunken with dark bags heavy beneath, unwashed hair, he moved so slow you thought he might just fall over if you breathed near him. Hanzo purposely avoided meeting you after practice that time. You had to find out Genji was missing from eavesdropping on your teacher scolding Hanzo for his performance that day. It wasn't until much later that you learned Hanzo would go out all night and search for Genji attempting to bring him home.  

“You’re going to kill yourself worrying about him.” He pulled away sharply, turning his face to the side.

“That is not my concern.” Hanzo grunted, body winced in pain. He was grabbing at his arm, over his tattoo.

“He’ll come back, Hanzo. He always does.” You wished that you were able to tell him you knew that for certain, but with Genji it was always a guessing game. You ruffled the skirt of your uniform, letting in the cool air to your legs. Hanzo clenched his teeth, eyes squeezing shut. “Are you alright?”

“My dragons.” The scaled pattern twisting around his arm glowed softly at first, then vividly bright. “They can sense when I am… uneasy.” Slowly, figures emerged from his arm with ghostly trails before they fully formed.

 

You’d seen his dragons twice now. Once during practice, when Hanzo was having a particularly bad day after an argument with his father. He lost control of his anger, the two dragons swirled leaving a path of destruction behind them- it was the only time you have ever been legitimately scared Hanzo may hurt you.

The second time was a time like this, outside on the balcony. He summoned them to introduce you, an apology for frightening you before. They emerged in small forms, circling you in curiosity. The dragons were reptile like, blue and see through but tangible. Forked tongues poked out beneath fangs hanging over small mouths, their eyes almost cat like. One of the dragons floated to your face, you held your breath scared for a moment it might hurt you, instead a tongue grazed across your cheek. It rubbed its face against you, reminding you more of a pet than powerful spiritual being.     

 

Here they were again now, in their smaller forms. One draped over his shoulders, the other curling in his lap. Hanzo huffed, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the one around his shoulders. He balled the fabric of his skirt in a fist.

“Clearly, I have not mastered controlling them yet.” You let you a small chuckle, staring down at the one in his lap.

“I think they’re worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” Both dragons snapped to look at him, you swore if they could roll their eyes they would have.

“I’m not going to push you on this Hanzo.” He nodded his head. “But I’m here if you want to talk.” You half smiled back at him, the dragon in his lap stared at him in impatience.

“...I appreciate that. Thank you.” The dragon closed its eyes, dropping and tucking itself in a tight curl.  

Rain continued, thunder still a good distance away but grew closer. Sweat was beading down your neck, it was cool outside but your uniform was still overheating you. Hanzo had the right idea- removing his top. You untied yours, exposing a black bandeau beneath, letting your sleeves fall off your shoulders and tugged at the skirt bringing the hem just above your knees. You sighed, that felt _much_ better.

The dragon at his shoulders lifted its head to look at you, then back to Hanzo. He gave it a quizzical look, before it floated your way and settled on your own shoulders.

“Aw, he likes me.” You lifted a hand to pet the dragon, fingers running against remarkably, unspirit-like, lizard feeling skin. It dropped its head out of sight of Hanzo in the crook of your neck, tongue slowly licking over your collarbone and up the length of your neck. “Hey-” You giggled. “That tickles!”

Hanzo leaned forward to see what the dragon was doing.

“Behave yourself.” He scolded at the dragon, eyes narrowing. The dragon looked back at him. If you saw its face you would say it was clueless, but Hanzo knew it was playing dumb, tempting him to give into his repressed feelings. You brought your knees to your chest, hugging at them. Across the sky flashed a long line of lightning, followed by a low roll of thunder, Hanzo leaned back against the wall.

“I love this weather.” You sighed out.  

“Me too.” His eyes weren’t on the clouds. He was blushing, eyes lingering on your legs. Your skirt had fallen to the tops of your thighs, the edge of your underwear peeking through folds of fabric. You turned to face him, as he quickly averted his eyes. “My family has a summer home near the coast, where storms like this are very common.”

“That sounds nice.” You smiled, resting your head against your knees.

“It is. Genji and I would spend summers there with our mother when we were boys. Perhaps one day…” The dragons lifted their heads to stare at him. “You could join me there?” You lifted your head too, heart skipping. “-To train, I mean. We have a room to practice kendo of course.” He tacked on quickly, pretending like that’s the only reason he wanted to take you there.

 

You’ve spent time with Hanzo outside of the context of practice a handful of times. The very first being when he asked you to a small tea shop after you first became his practice partner, where you talked very briefly. He was tight lipped, clearly inviting you out just as a professional courtesy. Then a couple practices in, you stumbled upon him on the balcony. 

After he started open up to you over your balcony visits, he wanted you to meet Genji. You met them at a casual restaurant during a freezing day in winter. Hanzo and Genji had clearly been in some sort of hushed argument before you made it to the table. Although you technically met Genji that night, he was visibly upset his body shaking and eyes watering, and decided to leave before the food even arrived, so you weren't even properly introduced. You spent a very awkward dinner with an embarrassed Hanzo.

A couple times after that you’d meet on weekends and do small things together. Usually it related to kendo, getting new uniforms, repairing holes in the masks, checking out new bamboo sticks. He started asking you things about your life, friends and family, what you wanted to do in the future. Hanzo grew to become a good friend that you knew you could call for anything, and you found you were one of, if not his only, friend.   

The last time you found him outside of practice, you had been out drinking with friends and were making your way home through crowded streets filled with bars and food stands. You had been looking down at your phone when a hand grabbed your shoulder. You went to strike the arm of whoever was attached, but your slowed response time allowed you to process who was holding you before you made contact. That night was a blur, but one of the things that is stuck in your mind was how horrible Hanzo looked. It was the week Genji had been missing.  

Somehow he ended up walking you home. You invited him inside, telling him he looked like shit and needed to rest. He’d told you he found Genji but couldn’t convince him to come back home. He sunk to your floor, you’d never seen him look this helpless or defeated. You remember holding him in a tight hug, no response from his body other than his chest holding back sobs. You tried to tell him everything would be okay, that you’re here for him, but it came out in a much less coherent string of words. He held your face close to his, hands and body shaking, forehead pressed against yours, lips almost meeting but never touching.   

The both of you fell asleep on your floor that night. You woke to him stirring at your side, his eyes were red, but the bags beneath them were much better after getting a full night’s sleep. He’d apologized for being an intrusion, but you asked him to stay and made breakfast. That morning was the first time he hugged you. As you were bringing a kettle to a boil, leaned against the counter. Hanzo wordlessly brought you into his arms, you held onto him until steam was shooting from the kettle, rubbing his back and burying your face in his chest.   

After that, he was more comfortable with you. Kendo practice became easier, your time spent together on the balcony now filled more with talking than with silence. He was still guarded, but it felt like he was opening up.  

 

“I’d like that.” The thought of spending time with him, away from Hanamura, sounded incredible. He smiled lips pressed together, trying to hold back how happy you made him. He reached up, placing a hand at the top of your knee and squeezing, then running his thumb in small circles against your skin. He wanted to grab your hand, but the nagging voice at the back of his brain stopped him. Your heart jumped, dragon around your shoulders stirring as it felt your heartbeat through your neck.   

“I’ll find out when my family is not occupying it. We can go for a weekend.” Your stomach was fluttering with excitement.

“I’ll keep my weekends open then.” You smiled, reaching to pet the dragon at your shoulders. Hanzo’s eyes followed your knee and up your thigh, stopping at the where the skit had fell to. You straightened out your legs, dropping your hands to your lap, suddenly very aware just how exposed you were, realizing why Hanzo was blushing. He averted his eyes, pretending to not notice you straightening out the skirt so it sat midthigh.

The dragon in his lap looked between the two of you then floated to his face, nudging against him trying to push him towards you. He tried to shoo it away, but it continued. While the dragon was pushing on his face, the one around your shoulders licked you again along your chin line and down your neck, sending a hot shiver through your body. The dragon at his face pulled back, and they stared at each other. Hanzo's eyebrows furrowed, the dragon wide eyed flickering between you and him.

“Are you… communicating with your dragon?”

“No.” His gaze shifted to you. “Well, almost. It's more a feeling than a conversation. Part of my ability is controlling them, understanding them. They know what I am feeling, and I am learning to understand what they are feeling.” You sat in silence for a moment trying to work that out.

“So what are they feeling?” The one over your shoulders licked up your neck again, this time bringing its face up to meet yours.

“They want me to-” Cheeks pink, you watched as it pressed its nose against your lips, you raised your eyebrows in surprise as it pulled back to look at you.  

“I-I think your dragon just kissed me.” You laughed. Hanzo snapped to face you, the dragon now swirling around your face and neck.

“Kiss you?” He sounded confused. The dragon dropped, circling around your chest. You gasped, hiding a giggle as the scales tickled your skin. It slithered over your breasts, around your rib cage, against your collarbone. You squealed, Hanzo’s eyes wide, hands hovering over you unsure what to do. He spat out scolding Japanese towards it, something along the lines of _stop doing that_.

The face of the dragon paused for a moment to stare at him, then abruptly pushed under the bandeau on your chest, running against your nipple causing your entire body to jerk forward.

“Ah- Hanzo!” His face drained, the dragon had pushed down the tube of fabric bunching it around your waist. Your chest exposed as you tried to cover yourself with your hands and pull the bandeau back around you.

“I’m so sorry, they have never acted like this before!” Flashes of your nipple between fingers only made him blush deeper. The dragon had circled you again, pausing to lick the sensitive nub on your chest. You moaned, trying to play it off as a nervous laugh. “I just need to focus for a moment, let me call them back.” He tightly shut his eyes, hands to the ground trying desperately to focus. He was shaking, shifting his body to hide a growing bump forming in his lap.

You squirmed, biting at your lip to stop any other noises from escaping you. This spirit seems like it knows _exactly_ what it’s doing. You stopped trying to cover yourself, letting the tongue flick at your nipple, you were panting pressing your back against the wall. Hanzo trembled, eyes flying open and reaching to try to grab at it to physically remove it from you.

“They won’t leave!” He sounded scared. You looked to him, down to the dragons, then back to him again deciding to take a chance and hope for the best. Your lips crashed against his, arm swinging around his shoulders. The dragon drew back next to its brother, waiting to see what Hanzo would do. His hands lingered above you, body not reacting. You pulled back, looking at him thinking you must have misunderstood what he, what the dragons, wanted. He started shaking his head, eyes wild.

“I can’t-” He brought his hands to your face, palm against each cheek. “I’m not to get involved with anyone not approved by-” He wasn’t listening to himself anymore. His lips against yours, he pulled your exposed chest against his. Calloused hands ran across your bare back, he kissed you deep, like this would be only chance he got. One dragon moved to your legs, between your thighs slithering under the hem of your skirt. Before it registered in your mind that it was a dragon and not Hanzo's hand, its body slid along the outside of your panties, forcing a moan from you.

“Hanzo-!” The other dragon was at your neck, licking again slowly tracing the veins under your skin. Hanzo pushed himself from you, creating a decent gap to give you a moment to breathe, he looked to his dragons with a sense of realization.

“I-I can feel them now, I can feel what they're doing to you.” He went from excited to serious in the blink of an eye, all movement from him and the dragons pausing. “I think I can make them stop-”

“Don't.” Your voice was breathy, eyes looking directly into his. A loud clap of thunder bellowed across the sky. “Don't stop.” Fire burned behind his eyes, he locked his mouth with yours again, dragons continued licking on your neck and rutting against your slit.

His rough hand cupped your breast, running fingers over your nipples, teasing you. He kissed at your lips, against your chin, down your neck and to your nipples. His tongue swirled around, hotter and wetter than the dragon's tongue was. Teeth gently bit down, pulling and sucking into his mouth. You arched your back, grinding down against the dragon at your panties. It was rolling over your clit, again and again. Pushing at your entrance with just enough pressure that you though it might try to slip its body in.

Hanzo's hand dropped to your thighs, pushing up the thick fabric of the uniform skirt and moving the dragon out of the way to feel you himself. Fingers traced along you, every nerve sparking as he slowly ran along the outside of your panties. Dragon now out of the way, it licked its way around your inner thighs, creating patterns and driving you crazy.

He tested you, dipping a finger in circling at your entrance. He moved his mouth back up to you, kissing you again intensely. You wrapped your arms around him, hands playing with his long hair, smiling against him. His finger ventured deeper into you, curling and twisting to figure out what would make you sigh against him. He smiled too, leaning back to watch you as he swirled inside you. Hanzo hasn’t been physical with many people before, so some of his movements were clumsy, stuttering as he reacted to your movements. Although not experienced, he paid close attention to how your body twitched when he moved his fingers this way, how your pulse quickened as one dragon licked at your neck, how you jumped when the dragon at your thighs traced up your thighs and circled above his fingers, forked tongue against your clit. Through gasps you brought your hands to his cheeks, cupping his face.

“I like it when you smile.” Instinctively he tried to hide it, face burning a deep red and burying it into the crook of your neck. You giggled, turning into a moan as he drove harder into you. Your fingers tightened around the back of his neck, body rocking against him as you tried to quiet your gasps hearing footsteps and voices approach from the wall behind you. Hanzo whispered a _shh_ at you, lips against yours.

“Where the hell could they be?” Came a muffled voice behind the wall and window looking out to the balcony. You both froze, it was the voice of one of Hanzo’s bodyguards. If he leaned too close to the window you know he’d be able to look down and see you both like this. You suddenly realized the storm was now almost overheard, rain hitting the wood in frenzied motions. Heavy footsteps continued down the hall on the other side of the wall. You were both breathing hard, adrenaline and lust coursing through your veins. Hanzo popped his head to the window to check if anyone was still there, then came back down and pulled your bandeau back up where it belonged. The dragons hovered around you, eyes intense, telling him they didn’t want to stop. He muttered something beneath his breath, and the dragons flew back into his arm, with a blinding blue glow.

You tied your top back around you, hands shaking, body trying to ignore every urge to give in and ride Hanzo right here. Hanzo had his eyes closed, focused on his breathing trying to will his erection away. You moved to help him with his uniform top, now crumpled behind him on the ground. He grabbed your hand instead, bringing it to his lips kissing your fingers and across your knuckles.

“Perhaps we should continue this when we make it to the summer home?” He looked at you, eyes wanting nothing more than for you agree.

“Absolutely.” You pulled him into a hug, kissing him hard before standing and straightening out what you could on your uniform. He stood next you, holding your hand and looking at you like he was memorizing everything about you, like he was permanently stamping this moment into his mind. He opened the door back to the hallway for you, as you passed he whispered he would call you once he found out when you two could leave. You offered him one last smile, biting at your lower lip when you turned to walk in the opposite direction he went.                 

* * *

 

You got a call from him the next day about the house on the coast, with the great view of storms.

“This weekend.”

“Really?” You couldn't control the smile in your voice.

“Friday, I'll be at your place to pick you up. 9am.” You could tell he was smiling too.

He told you what type of clothes to bring, when the best time to walk the beach was, you made plans for dinner at a beach side restaurant that Hanzo visited when he was a kid. You almost couldn't sleep the next few nights, waiting for the weekend to come. So excited you even packed everything you needed a couple days in advance just to make sure you had it all.

 

Friday you waited, luggage packed and ready next to your door for when his car came. By 10am there was no knock at your door, no car waiting for you outside. You waited hours past 9. You tried texting, calling, you tried Genji, you even had the number of one his bodyguards and they didn’t answer. It was late in the afternoon by the time you finally decided to just drive over there. The gates to the estate were locked shut. You banged at them, wondering where everyone was. You sent strings of frantic texts, worried something must have happened. You stayed there until well after the street lights flickered on, no sign of Hanzo, or Genji, or anyone.

The next morning after a sleepless night, as you were washing dishes from your uneaten breakfast there was a hard knock on the door. You swung it open, expecting to chew out Hanzo for not responding. Instead you were met with an older man, dressed head to toe in an expensive suit, dark sunglasses covering his eyes.

“Good morning miss…” He paused, looking down at his phone and purposely mispronouncing your name. “Master Shimada has requested you do not attempt to contact him again.”

“What?” Your body almost blew back, your mind was running in circles trying to grasp what he’d just said to you. The man turned to leave, you grabbed his wrist, a little harder than you intended. “I don’t understand-” He cut you off, roughly shaking your hand off him and quickly made his way to a sleek black car, driving off with no other explanation.

You panicked. You tried to call Hanzo again, sent so many texts you were sure you’d rubbed the fingerprints off your thumbs. You tried to reach Genji again, only to find that your number had been blocked and your calls weren’t going through, same with the bodyguard. Hanzo’s voicemail was full, probably from you leaving so many messages demanding to know what the fuck was going on. You called him a coward. Accused him of just wanting to make a pass at you to see how easy you were, called him a criminal and endless other strings of horrible hurtful things.    

 

A week after the man at your door, you got a notice in the mail that your kendo dojo had been changed. Your heart dropped, you called to see if maybe they had an explanation. The woman on the other end of the phone paused, lowering her voice.

“You really haven't heard?”     

“No, please I haven't been able to reach anyone there and I'm so worried-”

“Sojiro died.” Your whole body went numb. His father died? “Hanzo is no longer in need of training, as he's to be the head of their… business, so we reassigned you. I thought he was your partner, he didn’t tell you any of this?” Her words cut right into your heart, twisting a knife that was sunk there the moment that man told you not to contact Hanzo. You couldn't speak, couldn't move. “Are you still there?” You took the phone from your ear pressing the end call button, and cried. You cried as you stared at your messages you’d sent to Hanzo. Your body refused to let you try to call him again. You sobbed because you couldn't talk to Hanzo, you screamed because you knew he was hurting and had almost no one he could turn to, you shook as you leaned against the sink, paled and nauseous, because of what never got to be.

The next morning you sent him one last text, hoping it would go through. _I’m so sorry about your father. Please come talk to me._

* * *

 

A month after that you were starting to get into a new routine, one without seeing Hanzo. One night, while you were already in bed tossing and turning trying to sleep, there was a soft knock at your door. Carefully you opened it, kendo stick in hand should you need to defend yourself. Hanzo peered back at you through the crack, a soft blue glow emitting from his arm beneath a jacket. You caught your breath, and thought about wacking him with the stick- showing up at your door after all this time and this late at night, what a fool. But his eyes told you he must be going through something terrible. Opening the door wide you dropped the stick to the ground, he immediately charged in and pulled you into a hug. Dragons on his arm flew out surrounding you both, lighting the room. You mumbled against his jacket asking him how he was doing with what happened to his father, only to be met with silence until you pulled away and gave him a quizzical look.

“I need to give you a proper goodbye.” He released you, gently shutting your front door behind him.  

“No- No goodbyes. I'm still here, I'm still your friend whatever happens.”

“My clan has plans for me, plans that can not involve you.” The two dragons pushed against his back, forcing him closer to you. He brought his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks. His eyes were watering, chest tight. “It will be easier, for both of us if you let me go now.” He whispered against your lips.

“You're _grieving_ Hanzo. You need some time to breathe.” He choked out your name, holding you tight against him. Kissing you hard as tears rolled down his cheeks.

“I don't have time.”

“You do! Just stay here with me, you can take all the time you need.” His hand fell to yours, holding tight. He wouldn't meet your eyes anymore.

“You should go on a vacation. Far away from here. As far from my family as you can get.”

“Hanzo-”

“You're going to hear things about me if you stay. Horrible things.” His dragons floated behind his shoulders, also avoiding your eyes. “ _True_ things.”

“I don't care about _things._ I'm not stupid Hanzo, I know what your family does.” 

“Then you understand that I am serious.” Your eyes started watering. Silence setting in the room as you bit at your lips, voice breaking when you spoke.

“You can't even stay the night?” A dragon appeared next to your face, licking up a tear you didn't even realize had snuck it's way out. He stayed silent, looking to the ground in shame. You pushed his chest trying to get a reaction, his body unmoving. “So that’s really it?” You couldn’t hold your voice together.

The dragons swirled around you, faces nuzzling against you as they circled. One floated next to your face, empty eyes reflecting your own pained expression. It touched its nose against your cheek, carefully as if it was kissing you. You moved to hug Hanzo. Wrapping your arms around him tightly, face pressed to his chest as hard as you could, fingers dug into back of his jacket refusing to let go. He didn’t react, his body stiff and continued staring straight ahead at his dragons. The dragons stared back at him, and when he would respond, they did. They floated to his hands, guiding his arms around your body. As soon as they dropped his arms to you, he gripped you hard pressing his head against the top of yours.

“They’re expecting me back in an hour.” He said against your hair. You looked up to him, eyes red and beginning to puff, taking your chance now and kissing him as deep as you could. The hands at your waist slipped under your pajama top, sliding it off you as he leaned back for air. You worked at his jacket and pulled his shirt off as well, leaning into him until you both buckled to the floor. You pulled your pajama pants off, as he worked on his own pants until he was laying on the ground with you sat against his toned abdomen. Both of you complete nude and breathing hard against each other, the only thing lighting your darkened room being the dull blue emitting from the dragons as they flew around you both in excitement.

You bounced down until your ass was against his already hard dick. You leaned over, kissing him again, bringing your fingers to play at your entrance not wanting to waste what little time you had with him by having him fumble around with fingering you. The dragons saw exactly what you were doing, one went to help by licking its forked tongue in circles around your clit, while the other did the same at a nipple.

You moaned against his mouth, still partially in sobs. He rolled his hips against you, the feeling of you kissing him and what his dragons felt overcoming him. You removed your fingers, slick with your need for him. Sitting back up, the dragon behind you circled to your front, resting against Hanzo’s stomach as you adjusted. You moved an arm behind you, gripping at his thigh for balance and slowly lowered yourself on him.

As you took his inches, Hanzo signed out, either in pleasure or heartache you couldn’t tell which. He let you set the pace, his hands resting against your hips but not pushing. As you bounced above him he looked at you the same way he did on the balcony, only this time with no smile. He wanted to remember every hair on your head, every skin spot, every blemish, every scar tinted in blue from the spirits lights.

You were trembling above him snapping your hips down against him, dragon licking at your clit. Hanzo pushed the dragons out of the way, bringing himself to a sitting position, your bodies now folded together he held you in a tight hug and kissed you again. You continued to spring on him, now more shallow but fully taking him. He was pulsing inside you, body inexperienced and unsure but knowing if you moved too quickly he would release.

He held you there, straddled in his lap, fingers digging into your back as you laced your own into his hair. He licked at your bottom lip, the kiss becoming heated as he played against your tongue. The dragons flew across your skin, each snaking its way from your curves to Hanzo’s. He lowered his mouth, tongue sliding down to your chest and sucking at your nipple again.

You bounced a little harder, gasping as all the sensations fell together. It hit you unexpected, tightening your walls around him, your entire body shuddering. You gripped harder into his hair, pulling his face up to meet yours and forcing your lips to his. Your heartbeat was pounding against your chest as you came undone, gasping short breaths against his mouth. He pulled back to watch you in the final throes, dragons licking at you. Eyes studying you as he pulled your hips down hard against him. Pupils losing their focus he throbbed in you with the squeezing of your walls, shooting a small load against your cervix.

You stayed in his lap, holding your head in your hands desperately trying to hold back tears forming at the corners of your eyes. You chewed at your lip, not letting him look away. Sad eyes searched your body for any details they may have missed. Dragons continued to roll against your skin, their touches no longer rough, but gentle as if they were holding you.

He glanced at his jacket pocket, his phone lighting up with a small ding. Still in you, now soft, he held onto your waist as he reached for it, checking the message. He brought the phone between the two of you, completely ignoring the message and instead went to the contacts, scrolling to your name. When he clicked yours, there was a picture attached- one you weren’t sure when it was taken. In the picture you were faced towards him, but looking away and covering a smile, kendo uniform on with the mask tucked under your arm. Clicking a drop down, his thumb hovered over _Block_. You watched, waiting for his finger to finally fall and remove you from his life, but he couldn’t do it. You shook your head, a tear rolling off your cheek and hitting his hand. Gently, you pressed against his thumbnail, forcing the phone to vibrate and your contact page to slide away, name no longer existing between the others.

He dropped his phone at his side, arms wrapping you again, squeezing the air out of your lungs. His dragons offered you one final nudge against your cheeks, before they disappeared into him arm with a flash of blue, leaving the room in darkness. His fluids were leaking down onto him as he was still in you, your legs still straddled against him. He stayed, holding you and pressing his ear to your chest to learn your heartbeat. It fluttered when a happy tune played on his phone, vibrating against the floor causing a low rumble.

“What.” It wasn’t a question to the person on the other end, more a harsh scold. There was a man spouting out Japanese on the other end, telling Hanzo he needed to come home immediately, that they were not going to wait any longer. Hanzo grunted in response, hanging up and tossing the phone back to his jacket. He let out a deep sigh, you leaned forward and softly kissed his cheek.

As you stood your legs shook, your found your way to the light switch, illuminating the room. He sat still on the floor, one knee tucked under his chin, other leg stretched out in front of him. His eyes were irritated, red veins streaked across and silent tears beading down his face. You stood in front of him, holding out your hands to help him up.

You both redressed in silence, he sniffed and patted his cheeks, face slowly becoming unfeeling stone. You leaned against the door as he made sure he had everything on him.

“You have been a great friend to me.” His voice was quiet. 

You nodded, licking your lips of your salty tears and placed your hand on the doorknob.

“I am truly sorry I did not act on my feelings sooner.” He leaned in, a last attempt to kiss you. You turned your face, biting at your lips. He paused, hurt eyes searching your expression, and instead pecked your cheek.

“Goodbye Hanzo.” When he pulled back his eyes were cold, as if a switch had flipped in him. He stared out the open door to the streetlight flickering.

“Goodbye.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, exiting without a glance back at you. You watched as his figure walked down the street and out of view. When you got back to bed you scrolled through your phone and deleted Hanzo from your contacts, watching the calls and conversations disappear. Not even the heaviest sedative would have put you to sleep after that, all night and into the morning hours you stared up at your ceiling wondering about what could have been.                              

* * *

 

Over the next few days you were bombarded with questions asking if you knew he was going to do it. Different versions of the story floated in your social circle, each more gruesome than the next. You thought back to the phone call Hanzo got before he left, the look in his eyes after he kissed your cheek. You wished you had taken his advice for a vacation, when you figured out why he asked you to leave. Through all the gossip, there was one thing you knew for certain. Genji was dead and it was by Hanzo’s hands, on the same night he said goodbye to you.

You became numb to it, after a while. Sometimes you wouldn’t think about it for a couple hours. Then you wouldn’t think about it for a couple days, or weeks, or months. It would creep back up into your thoughts when you were doing mundane things, flash across your mind if you saw a neon sign the same color as his dragons. But life continued, each day easier than the next and each day your mind drifted further from him, your life now split between pre-Hanzo and post-Hanzo.

* * *

 

It was ten years, at least, before you saw him again. After moving away for work, you came back to Hanamura to visit family over the new year. The tea shop you first met with Hanzo in was long since closed, kendo dojo officially shut its doors, the Shinada estate an empty shell chained off from any prying eyes.

You were at a street celebration, when you spotted him wide eyed and staring at you. He was wearing casual clothes, blending in with the crowd. He looked so different without the long hair and with a piercing on the bridge of his nose, you almost didn't recognize him. He looked older. Tired.  

You both froze as hurried people passing between, you almost expected that with the next person passing he'd disappear into thin air. You started towards him, pushing people out of the way when they almost hit you. As you came to a stop in front of him you opened your mouth to say something, say anything, but nothing formed. He hugged you into his arms, holding you close. You pounded your fists against his back, but buried your face against his chest.  He brought his hand to your hair, softly stroking.

“I am on a path of forgiveness, and you are one of the people I truly cared for, and hurt.” He leaned back, bringing his hand to your chin and lifting it to have you look at him. “I am in need of a friend these days. I know I have no right to ask... but would you be willing to give me a another chance?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .....and the anwser is up to you! :) 
> 
> Dragons/spirits added from a comment Illilex0DarkFire left, I know it wasn't *exactly* what you were looking for, but it's the only way I could think to fit them in!


	14. Distracted Sex, Reaper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: After the fall of Overwatch  
> Notes: No warnings! :)

You were told, very explicitly, to stay away from the Reaper. Working in international security, rumors flew about what he could do and what he had done. Bagged bodies would arrive back at headquarters, fools with brave hearts who wanted to get the jump on him, or tried to fight him head on. He was so dangerous that no one ever even claimed to go toe-to-toe with him, and any that decided they wanted to try wouldn’t live to tell the tale. He was the thing in the shadows that made you jump, the hooded man who would make your heart stop just by thinking about him.

Or at least, that’s how you described him to your colleagues while you huddled together during the Helix lunch hour. Out of the earshot of the supervisors who treated you more like soldiers, you would whisper in groups about what you’d read in the news, or what was seen on TV. Gossip spread about Talon, and the Reaper's involvement with them, and how it all related to the people Helix protected or housed in their facility.

* * *

 

This mission was supposed to be an easy one. Transport a known Talon agent from one holding facility, to another. You had been sitting in an armored vehicle with the prisoner, swaying with the movements of the road when a blast came from outside bringing the car to a dead halt. Talon agents attacked faster than you thought possible, capturing both the Talon agent and the two other teammates who were working the transport job with you. As soon as the Talon agent was free, he ran to his comrades for safety.  

Each of you with Helix had a guard pointing their rifles to the backs of your heads as you walked down a dirt path and to an abandoned structure in the deserted area off the road. They marched you down a cold dilapidated hallway. The three of you were brought into a hard concrete room, no furniture, no windows, no cameras, red stains fading from the years of inactivity. Talon preferred to do things the old fashioned way, it appeared. You were last in the room, and as you entered the guard behind you slipped something in your back pocket, tapping your ass with his knuckles- you shot a glare back to him and his dumb smirk.

There you all were left handcuffs behind your back, forced to listen to the loud buzzing of fluorescent beams hanging from the ceiling and one of your teammates sobbing uncontrollably. You laid against the floor, cold concrete pressed to your cheek as you rolled your eyes and tried not to focus on the crying.

They were making you wait for hours, it seemed like. Until finally the door opened, two black clad soldiers and an enormous hooded figure behind them. The sobbing turned to stunned silence, fear almost like static electricity in the air.

“Take these two.” The hooded figure pointed to your teammates. “I’ve got the girl.”

They started screaming, begging for him not to kill you, not to kill them. You widened your eyes, staring intently at the bone white mask on the Reapers face. Talon soldiers pulled at your teammates as they kicked and thrashed around in an attempt to not be dragged out of the room, but it was to no avail. The last thing you heard was their screams for help as the soldiers pulled them by their feet to different holding cells.

Reaper closed the heavy door, waiting until he confirmed all noise was completely blocked behind him then clicking the lock. You stood struggling to find your balance with your arms behind you, rolling your neck to work out the kinks.

“Explain yourself.” Reaper’s deep voice bellowed at you, hand reaching at the fastening on his pants.

“It’s going to take more than we thought to get Akande out. They have him separated from all the other inmates, we’re going to need at least 10, maybe 15 more people on the inside.” From your back pocket you pulled a handcuff key the guard at the door slipped in, working your fingers around the keyhole and popping off the metal braces.

“And have you gained the security ranks needed to access this _separated area_?” You rolled your eyes at him, rubbing your wrist in annoyance.

“Of course I have. I told you I’d be the right one for this.” You brought out your communicator, scrolling through it for the notes you’d taken while at Helix. “I have the names of people I think we can flip, too.” You didn’t look up as you pushed your pants down, stepping out of them as they hit the floor. “Security codes.” Reaper leaded against the wall and you backed up against him. “PCard statements, those are interesting.”

Reaper growled, throwing one of his gloves to the ground and roughly shoving a finger in you. He swirled it for a moment running against your nerves. He quickly added a second finger, scissoring to spread you to make sure your body was ready for him. You looked over your shoulder after a few moments of this, giving him an uninterested look and pushing his hand away.

“Helix already locked on our location, they'll be here soon.”

“Fine.” He grunted out, moving to pump his chub until he was fully hard. You turned your eyes back to the communicator. 

“Interpersonal relationships- these people really can’t keep it in their pants.” You said with a cold laugh, eyes unmoving from the screen in your hands and hips sinking down against Reaper. He leaned back, letting you do the work of bouncing shallow movements against him. It had been a while since you've been with him, having been undercover on this job for so long.   

"Do you need the other two alive?" He grabbed your shoulder with his gloved hand, claws pressing against your skin, the other gripping your hip impatiently to change your pace. 

"Eh-" You shrugged, rolling your head back, still trying to get the kink out of your neck. "They'll probably just be a liability." Reaper grunted behind you, frustrated in your lack of moment. He pulled himself from you, twisting your arm and you turned to face him.

"Put your back against the wall." He snarled at you from under his mask. You did as you were told, pressing your back to the wall, leaving your legs wide. He stood between you, lifting your legs around his waist and sliding himself back in you. You breathed out a sigh feeling his full thick length stuff you, then wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing the screen behind his head. 

"Coordinates to his cell are there too, along with the guard rotations." You lazily rutted against him, teasing as if you'd give him more- but he knew when you were on mission you wouldn't, you were (almost) all business. He chose you because you were always so focused, so determined; And dammit if you weren't that, even when he was pressed tightly against your walls on the verge of spilling over. You continued the small circles until he finally took hold of you completely using both your hips.  He drove into you, gravity taking effect and bringing you down hard on him. Your back scraped against the concrete wall, sending a shiver through you. He ground against you, working exclusively for his own pleasure. 

He was thrusting into you like a man who hasn't been touched in years, quickly losing his control over the pace and working you as he pulsed deep in you. In the last moment he pulled himself from you, using his hand to pump the final moments towards the floor. 

Rapid knocks came at the heavy door, an indication that the base was about to be infiltrated. Reaper quickly buttoned himself away, taking your communicator and squeezed your shoulder, before forming into smoke and leaving beneath the door. You did your best to put on a scared face, ripping some of your clothes as you put your pants back on to pretend there was a struggle. By the team the Helix team busted down the door to your cell, you were a heaping crying mess. You were carried away in the arms of your enemies back to the Helix compound, none the wiser.

 


	15. Distention, Soldier 76

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: Before Overwatch, Soldier Enhancement Program  
> Notes: Agent/agent dynamic, mention of needles/medical things

Static crackled over the intercom as everyone paused what they were doing to listen, hoping their number would be called.

“Soldiers 16, 26, 36, 56, 66, 76, 86, 96, report to the medical wing in fifteen minutes.” No 46 called. That’s not good. The last time you saw 46 she was hunched over a toilet, sweating and heaving, trying to convince you she must have just caught a bug. You shook your head and turned on your heels trying to not consider the worst, heading in the direction of the medical wing. The rubber bracelet on your wrist rubbed against your skin, a reminder of the bar code stretched across identifying you as number 96. An easy way of telling the medical staff who you were and what serum to inject you with.

You got to the medical wing first, taking the chair furthest in the back. Eyes of medical staff watched you behind protective glasses and over medical masks, murmuring their conversations and preparing trays of equipment. 76 came in shortly after you, he was a handsome guy with striking blond hair against blue eyes and a smile that just melted your heart. Over the course of the injections he’s grown a few inches, his injuries healed faster, all in all he seemed to be reacting well. Immediately he b-lined your way, taking the chair next to you and leaning over with his mouth out of view of the medical personnel. You shot him a surprised look, his eyes were wide and darting around the room before he focused in on you.

“46 didn’t make it.” He whispered, then looked over his shoulder to the door.

“She died?” You hissed under your breath, trying not to move your mouth so the staff could read your lips. He bounced his leg, fingers partially covering his mouth as he whispered back to you.

“24 said two people in his group died too.” You shifted in your chair hoping no one heard you talking about this. If you were caught talking about deaths of other soldiers, your real names, or your side effects it was considered a disqualifier from the program with a dishonorable discharge.

“Shit.” You played with the band around your wrist, chewing at your cheek. “We’re not even halfway done with the program.” 16 and 36 entered together, all smiles and sat in the chairs closest to the door continuing their giggling, completely oblivious.

“I know.” He leaned back in his chair. “I hope we both get through this.”

“Me too.” You sighed out at him. “Sometimes I wonder if this is all worth it.” His eyes were sad as he nodded his head in agreeance with you. The other soldiers entered, taking seats as the medical staff rolled trays and small machines to each person. Nurses took their place at the arms of the soldiers checking stats before starting the injections. Your nurse wordlessly hovered above you checking your veins and your heart rate.

“How are you feeling after your last injection, 96?” The nurse's eyes stared at the valve checking your blood pressure. You glanced at 76 next to you, his eyes were closed and his nurse was turning on his machine with blush peeking over the mask on her face. The big boxes they used to pump the serum into you reminded you of plasma donation machines, but something still creeped you out about them. Your nurse turned your forearm upwards, poking the needle into your vein.    

“Other than the headaches and bruising, I’m doing alright.” The nurse _hmmd_ back at you uninterested, turning on your machine. The first few minutes were always the worst, you’d be light headed, and your blood felt ice cold. You scrunched your face in discomfort turning to look back at 76 again, his blue eyes meeting yours. His pupils were blown, face flushing to a bright red as he curled himself in his chair holding his legs to his chest with his free arm. You had no time to process what side effects he might be going through, as yours made your body go limp and freezing at the same time. Your nurse lifted your hand, letting it drop to check your response then mumbled something about how cold you felt before walking away. 76 squeezed his eyes shut, burying his face against his knees. Sweat matted his hair and dripped down his neck, you were almost jealous that he must be on fire right now as you felt your body shake from the internal cold.

By the time the nurse came back with a blanket you were leaned back in your chair with your eyes closed desperately trying to think of warm beaches, oversized fireplaces or jumping straight into a volcano to warm yourself up. The heavy blanket was laid over you and your body relaxed with a dry sob now feeling cocooned in heat. Before you knew it the nurse was gently shaking you, your head throbbing as your body rattled from the movement. You blinked a few times, realizing everyone else was gone- you must have fallen asleep. Still groggy, you brought yourself upright and pushed the weighted blanket off of you, your body now soaked in sweat and in desperate need of water. You quietly thanked your nurse as you left the room, just outside the door 76 was leaned against the wall pale and wiping the back of his hand against his forehead. In his other hand was a bottle of water, you balanced yourself against his bicep as you shakily walked through the halls towards the bunks.  

"Are you still lightheaded?" He whispered, twisting off the cap for you then placed the bottle in your hand. You furrowed your eyebrows, holding up a finger to him telling him to wait as you chugged the entire bottle ending with an exasperated gasp for air.

"A little."

"Do you want to head outside?" He was referring to a nice quiet place on the backside of the medical building, covered in shade and hidden behind a wall away from the prying eyes of the medical staff, officers, and other soldiers. You nodded your head, making your way with him outside and around the corners to the secluded spot. 

Once there you laid on the ground, arm draped over your eyes as 76 propped up against the wall. A light breeze drifted across your skin, the sound of leaves rustling in trees offered brief moments of peace to wash over you and you smiled to yourself. Soon you'd be the perfect soldier, strong, fast, unbreakable. That concentration was broken as a wave of nausea hit you, causing you to groan and curl against your legs.

"These damn side effects seem to be getting worse each time." You mumbled into yourself rubbing your eyes. 

"Mine too." 76 sighed, he didn't seem like he was in pain, you turned your head glaring at him. 

"I never see you get sick after your injections." 

"Oh-" His cheeks glowed pink. "I get fevers and... all that."  You flipped to your other side, now facing him as the nausea passed. 

"All that?" You tried to piece together what he meant. Anytime you've seen him after injections he's been a sweaty out of breath mess, but never reacted like he was in pain like you were. 

"You know, we all react differently." He bit at his lower lip, eyes watching leaves float across the sky. "Like 24, he has almost no reaction to his injections the lucky bastard." Against your better judgment, you wanted to ask him all about his side effects, hoping no one else was outside to eavesdrop on you. 

"76, how _do_ you react to yours?" He looked nervous. 

"Well it comes in waves." His nails dug at his cuticles, resting in his lap. "I think the injections are messing with my hormones? It feels like they're pumping steroids into me." That's certainly not how yours felt, but explains how he got so muscular so quickly. "Usually afterwards I'm okay, but in the chair I'm angry. Every little thing pisses me off, the nurse touching me, the sound the machines make, the lights." He grunted, residual anger still a bubble in him that's ever present. "But whenever I'm next to you during injections it's... different." You thought back to seeing him curled in his chair, knees to his chin and red face buried against them. 

"Whenever I see you, it looks like you're burning up." He laughed, quickly holding it back and biting his lip again. 

"Sort of. I'm not sure how to explain this, um, without sounding like a complete creep." He brought his knees up again, hugging at his legs, teeth biting at his thumbnail. "When you're there, I can only focus on you. It's like my brain just fixates on you, I hear every little noise you make, I can tell which way your laying without even looking at you. Ugh this is sounding so horrible-" 

"So you're pissed off at me during your injections?" 

"No-" He almost yelled, then lowed his voice back down to a rumble. "No. It's not like that, I don't get angry at you. It's..." He trailed off, regretting even telling you this much. The door leading back in the building squeaked open, voices murmuring to each other about hearing someone outside. You both quickly scrambled to your feet, you peaked your head around the corner to see who it was.     

76 grabbed you, one hand over your mouth the other pressing your body to his so it was out of view should anyone come close enough. You both waited, holding your breath as the voices trailed off and the door slammed behind them. Against your back you felt a hard pulse, focusing your attention only to the strange feeling. You flexed your back muscles against him, testing to make sure you weren’t just imagining perverted things. It felt like he had an arm pressed against you- but considering both his arms were currently wrapped around you, you really didn't have many other options to consider. He pulled himself from you, gasping in a breath as you spun around towards him.

His face was painted in pink, large body folding in on itself to try to look as small as possible. His forearm moved to cover the erection in his cameo pants, fingers gripping at his base over the clothing. His striking blue eyes searched the sky for the words he was trying to form as he chewed his lip in nervousness. Your mouth formed a silent _oh_ as your eyes trailed the outline in his pants. He opened his mouth to apologize to you, but you cut him off.

"I thought that was your arm!" He sunk against the wall, blush spreading across his entire face. He looked flustered, one hand covering his dick the other moving to cover his mouth. 

"It didn't used to be like this, it's those damn injections!" He rumbled through his palm at you. "This is completely ridiculous, I'm so sorry to drag you into my issues 96, you don't deserve this." He turned to look around the corner towards the door, trying to make a break for it. You grabbed his wrist before he could walk away, pulling him back. 

"Wait I-" Now uncovered you could see the full outline beneath his pants. It might as well have been an arm, the sheer size of it looked almost fake. It suddenly hit you how long it's been since you've been with anyone, even yourself having close to no alone time in bunks. Now it was your turn to blush. Your shirt felt tighter than it ever had, and you were very aware of an ache growing at your groin. "Are you fucking with me, is that real?" You pointed at him, one finger making a line in the air tracing his length. Now it was starting to look comical, as if someone had stuffed a bottle (or a few) in his pants to get a reaction. 

"What- of course it's real!" He moved his arm back to hiding the erection, face squeezing in embarrassment. "Why would I ever joke about that?" He almost looked hurt that you would insinuate he was kidding. 

"I'm sorry it's just-" You couldn't stop staring, your mind was racing at the thought of what it would feel like to have him take you. "I've never been with anyone that big." You didn't realize you were breathing heavy until you looked into his surprised eyes. 

"You've never been with...?" His eyes were intense, pupils still blown from the injections and sweat beading down the side of his face. 

"I-I've never  _seen_ anyone that big." You corrected yourself halfheartedly. Neither of you broke eye contact, an unintentional wide eyed staring contest before his eyes flickered to your hand, placed on his chest as your fingers trailed down waiting for him to stop you. He dropped his arm to his side, chest heaving as he felt the feather light touches trace over his abs and past the button of his pants. You paused, just before fingers met his covered cock unsure if you had the courage to take him. Part of you wondered how he every functioned day to day with something like that between his legs, maybe this was why you saw the nurses blushing behind their masks when they had to be at his station. 76 broke first, voice low as he gently placed his hand over yours.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable." You chuckled behind a bit lip. 

"Uncomfortable isn't the word I'd use." He raised an eyebrow at you, questioning. "Curious, would be one." Your fingers followed the curve around him, his cock jumped from the touch. His hand over yours squeezed, but let you guide yourself along his length all the way to his tip and down to his base. He took his hand from yours, letting you trace him with your fingers. He was straining against his pants and curling into your touch.  

"Please 96, don't tease me." His breathing was uneven, voice shaky when he whispered. You wrapped your fingers around him through his pants, squeezing the massive girth as he sighed above you. His face was twisted in embarrassment and pleasure, mouth hanging open. You continued to palm him through his pants, roughly running your hand along him and rolling your fingers on tip. At some point you realized you were both breathing heavily, bodies pressed together quietly moaning. Your face was burning, body tingling just by the thought of having his size fill you. 

"Anytime you feel like this this after injections, please get me." You breathed out a small laugh, pressing your forehead against his chest. "I've never been turned on like this before." You covered your face, pushing your hair back and looking up at him. Your body was shaking, nerves bundling together in your stomach and sparking through your skin. "I want you. Like, really want you." 76 looked down at you, speechless. He'd thought about telling you of his side effects for some time now, but always thought it would end in you slapping him and avoiding him for the rest of his life- never did he imagine you would be panting and practically begging to jump on him just because of his size. 

He wrapped his arms around your back, slowly lowering you to the ground. His icy eyes studied you, watching every deep gasp you took. Both hands pulled your cameo pants off and tossed them against the wall. Between your legs was a wet spot already formed, you tore off your panties tossing them vaguely in the same direction as your pants. 76 knelt, quickly undoing the button on his pants and shoving down unleashing his cock. You gawked at it for a moment, in awe that it really was real and part of him. A gigantic swell leaking in his palm as he lifted to adjust.   

76 was on his knees pants around his ankles, heavy dick lazily pumped in his fist. Your back was on the ground in front of him, backs of your thighs resting against the tops of his, your hips angled perfectly for him. You pushed your shirt and bra up fully revealing yourself to him as his breath hitched. He leaned forward being careful with you, using his hand to tease his tip along your slit and circle at your nub. You quietly moaned as you bit a finger between your teeth, trying to control yourself. He continued to run along the outside of you, your wetness slowly making its way out and coating his tip.

His hand guided himself to your entrance, softly poking at you to make sure he was in the right place. You arched your back the thought of him entering you now seemed like an impossibility, just his tip felt so incredibly wide. 76 watched you as you took a few slow, regulating breaths, before gently placing a hand on his arm to let him know you were ready.

As he pushed in he could feel the resistance from your body, your walls squeezed around him, tight hole pulsing with every push. Once his tip was in he gave you a moment to adjust to his size, to accept the stretching at your entrance.

“Is that okay?” He rubbed a thumb against your hips, an unconscious attempt to sooth the pain of stretching you. Your head already felt like it was swimming.

“Mmmm.” You moaned, pushing your hips down on him a little deeper. 76 smiled above you, biting his lips still afraid you’d tell him he was too big. “It feels-” You gasped as he continued pushing in, rocking against your walls. “Amazing.” He let out a happy, nervous laugh.

Inch by inch he slowly pushed into you, you had to catch your breath coming out in pleasurable sobs as he did. You were on the verge of screaming, telling him it was too much, that you couldn’t take it anymore when you felt him fully pressed against you. You didn’t realize your body had started shaking, you'd never felt this full before. Your entrance felt like it had been ripped open, your walls pulsed and squeezed around him as he hit every nerve stretching you in a way you’d never thought possible. You could feel him pressed up in your stomach, it was like he was stirring around your insides.

76 moved his hand from your hip to your abdomen, shaky breaths became low moans as he ran fingers over a bulge now pressed through your skin. You could feel his dick twitch in you as his fingers ran along your skin, over his tip and down the start of his length from the distention. Curious you brought your hand to it as well, it felt completely foreign but knowing it was him made you blush a deep red. He laced his fingers with yours and pushed down on the bulge with his palm. You moaned louder than you intended, immediately snatching your hand away from his to cover your mouth.

He stared down at you, attempting to stifle your noises, and a fire lit behind his eyes. He pressed his palm down against your lower abdomen, and rocked his hips back and forth. The sensation was almost overwhelming, your body was spasming around him as he worked himself in you feeling his girth from the outside. His pace heightened as your body began to accept him allowing him to not just rock in you, but now completely remove himself and shove back in to the hilt.  

While one hand covered your mouth, you moved the other to play with your nipples. Pinching and pulling, rolling the sensitive area along with his frenzied movements. 76 was sweating hard, his hands gripping at your waist now holding your body in place so it didn’t thrash around against him each time he bulged into your skin.

Your body was tingling orgasm threatening with every thrust, every rut along your inner nerves, every finger against your skin. You moved the hand at your chest to feel him pushing against your skin again, an uncontrolled moan left your lips followed by shallow gasps. He felt like he was going to break you apart, your legs swung in the air around him as he continuously drove into you. His movements were clumsy, not yet used to his own size as he tried to work you and himself. Pleasure began shooting across your nerves, your body twitching and swallowing every inch of him. The feeling of you coming undone around him, and your hand pushing against him from your abdomen flung him over the edge. Through gasping sobs he came in you, shooting hot seed deep inside coating your innards. 

For a few moments he stayed above you, heaving and sweating. You caught your breath head light either from his size or your earlier injections, you couldn't tell which. He pulled from you, with an audible pop as liquid poured from you down onto the concrete below. Your hand ran over your lower abdomen, bulge no longer protruding and fullness now replaced with an aching emptiness. Your fingers dipped down, tested your still stretched entrance opened wide and soaked. 76 watched you through half lidded eyes as he stood, pulling his pants back around his waist. Carefully you pulled your pants back around your legs, as you stood cum leaked out down your thighs coating the inside of your pants. 

Your body was already craving him again, wanting to be filled to the brim. You grabbed his hand, squeezing tight and kissed at his fingers. He stared back down at you, face still blushing a brilliant red and he pulled you around the corner to the door entering the medical wing again. 

"I mean it 76. Come get me, anytime."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ idk lol


	16. Uniforms, Gabriel Reyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: While Overwatch is operating  
> Notes: Coworker dynamic 
> 
> This was originally part of my first one (Masks, Gabriel Reyes) but can be read as either a stand alone or a prequel to Masks!

Overwatch agents usually avoided anything involved with Blackwatch. Newer cadets even feared those in the secret branch, not wanting their own reputation to be tainted by association, and older members scowled at the agents clad in black who seemed to get away with everything they couldn't.

You always seemed to be the exception. When you first smiled at Commander Reyes he was taken aback, confused even, that an Overwatch agent was being friendly to him. Smiles slowly became kind greetings in the hall, then small conversations about how each other’s day was going. You didn’t seem to mind the judgmental stares you got from the other Overwatch agents anytime they passed by you two having conversations, and Reyes appreciated that more than he could say.

Usually when Reyes saw you wandering the halls or coming back from missions you were dressed in the bright blue and yellow Overwatch colors, your casual uniform stained with the remnants of dirt and sweat from a day of hard work. On special occasions he would see you preparing for pinning ceremonies, or media appearances with your team dressed in the formal gear, a form fitting navy suit. All agents were given the options of either the skirt or the pants with the formal uniform, but more often than not you opted for the skirt and Reyes had to hold back a smile every time you did. Unlike the baggy casual uniform, the formal hugged your curves and made you carry yourself just a little differently. Left alone with his thoughts Reyes would imagine himself taking his time undoing your dress shirt buttons, ripping the stockings off your legs, and ravishing you until you couldn't walk straight.

* * *

 

Early one morning he spotted you rushing down the hall in your formal uniform looking unusually messy, tie in hand frantically trying to get the loop just right, kitten heels tucked under your arm, suit jacket open and your hair unkempt. You were staring down at the tie, hands hesitating to make a decision on where each part went as you bulldozed forward without looking.

“Looks like you're in a rush?” He caught you off guard, you stopped on your toes and your face snapped up to him in surprise.

“Ah! Hi Commander Reyes, yes I am.” You shifted your shoes under your arm, fingers still messing with the tie. “I can't get this stupid thing right.” Reyes reached out grabbing the end.

“Need some help?” You smiled brightly back at him, shoulders seeming to relax.

“Yes please, I'd very much appreciate that.” He redid the knot on your tie, as you dropped your shoes to the ground and slid them on. You gathered your hair, pushing it back and out of your face smoothing the frizz into a high bun. From your pocket, you placed bobby pins between your lips to pull from while you stuck each to keep your hair in place, then mumbled through the pins. “Would you mind buttoning me up?”

He left the tie knotted and loose around your neck, moving his fingers down to your uniform only hesitating for a moment before he buttoned the jacket bottom to top. You finished with your hair as he did the final button above your chest, and pulled at the tie locking it in place then smoothed out the front of your jacket and skirt. You took a step back, spinning in a small circle.

“Am I missing anything?” You tugged at the cuff of your shirt, setting it straight.

“Nope, you're all set.”

“Thanks commander, I owe you one.” You smiled up at him again. His insides felt like they were melting every time you smiled, something about you planted a seed of joy in his stomach that grew with every time he saw you.

“I take my coffee black, if you want to repay the favor.” He was smirking. You shook your head chuckling to yourself as you patted his bicep then continued your power walk away from him and down the hall. “I like those little cinnamon cakes from the cafeteria too!” He called after you. You turned shrugging at him, laughing and rolling your eyes.

“We can talk about that favor later!” Then you turned and hurried around a corner off to duty.

 

Reyes spent the remainder of that day focusing on his work, but every now and then the thought of the heat off your skin as he buttoned your shirt, or the way your lips glistened around the bobby pins would creep into his mind. He thought about what you would have done if he kissed you before you left, or what you would feel like wrapped in his arms.

By evening he was still hunched over his desk, pouring through extensive plans and ignoring his untouched dinner. A knock at his door caught him by surprise, his Balckwatch agents knew better then to bother him without calling first. He stomped to the door flinging it open ready to chew someone out, and was instead met with your bewildered face with outstretched hands in front of you, one holding a to-go cup of coffee the other holding a small white bag. Your face looked more tired than it had this morning, your lids lazily hanging over your eyes. His face dropped from angry to confused.

“McCree tried to talk me out of bothering you, but I figured if I already bought the coffee I wasn't going to let it go cold.” Reyes chuckled, opening the door wider letting you in. You placed both the items on his desk, eyes scanning the ridiculous amounts of paper strewn across.

“I'm usually not very friendly to unannounced intrusions.”

“Well this intrusion brought you coffee and cake, so I hope that makes up for it.” Your eyes flashed to him, bottom lip bit between your teeth stopping a full smile. You were still in your formal uniform but the top buttons from your jacket undone and tie loosened. “Thanks again for the help this morning.”

“Anytime.” Reyes said, casually leaning against his desk take a sip of the coffee. “Looks like you had a long day.” You sighed, plopping down into a chair facing his desk and sinking against it.

“Yes, I'm exhausted.” You closed your eyes and rolled your ankles. “I think this is the first time I've sat down since I woke up.”

"I'm just looking over some mission plans, if you want to rest here for a while." 

“I have one last media round in just over an hour, I think I'll take you up on that.” You stretched out your legs and your back, rolling against the chair. 

Reyes sat at his desk, carefully removed the crumbly cake out of its bag and took a bite. He closed his eyes, savoring the treat then opened them and leaned the cake towards you.

“Do you want any?” You took up his offer, breaking a piece from the corner and flicking it into your mouth, smiling as you ate it. He watched as you closed your eyes, leaning your head against the back of the chair, body relaxing for the first time all day. He went back to reading the documents in front of him, taking care not to make too much noise crunching on the pastry or when flipping the pages as you fell asleep. For a few moments he almost forgot you were in the room with him, your body unmoving until a small gasp brought you back to consciousness, your reddened eyes went straight to the clock- only 10 minutes had passed.

“Um… sorry about that, didn't mean to fall asleep. Guess I'm more tired than I thought.” You leaned forward, rubbing your eyes with your knuckles. Reyes laughed to himself.

“I don't mind, really. Take a nap, I'll wake you before you have to go.” You put your face in your hands, weary eyes back to staring at the clock. “I'll even fix your tie back up too.” He smiled at you, then down to his papers. You hesitated, body on the verge of standing up to leave before deciding to give in. You pulled your tie over your head and placed in on his desk in front of you, then shrugged off your jacket, your dress shirt still tucked neatly into your skirt. As you held your jacket in one hand you swung your legs of over the side of the chair so you were sideways. You used your jacket as a makeshift blanket, covering you over your shoulder as you leaned against the backrest of the chair.

“Promise you'll wake me up?”

“You have my word.” You settled in, hips adjusting until you were comfortable and managing to slip into sleep quickly after mumbling another thank you.

 

When Reyes looked at you again your body was completely relaxed, arms folded in your lap. The edge of your skirt had bunched around your mid thigh, legs gracefully hanging over the armrest, a small run in your stockings starting at your ankle. At some point your jacket slipped down your side revealing your dress shirt, the top three buttons must have been choking you as he studied his papers, they were now undone and open towards him.

Reyes stared at you longer than he intended, burning the image of you like this into his mind. He wished he could pick you up and carry you to his room, lay you out on his bed like this. He wanted to undo each button on your shirt and bury himself against your chest. He'd massage your tired legs, unleash you from that restrictive uniform skirt, and he'd kiss every inch of your skin until you made the sweetest noises for him.

You shifted in the chair, hips tilting slowly as you adjusted. When your body settled again he had a view right into your shirt, the edge of your bra poking through the opening. Reyes bit at his lip, his eyes tracing down your body to your legs. Somehow you'd managed to push up your skirt even further, the back curve of your upper thigh now exposed.

He suddenly became acutely aware of fantasies with you riding his face while he squeezed at your thighs, or holding them apart as he pounded you against the door to his office. He was also very aware of just how tight his pants were becoming. Just looking at you ached him, he wanted the real thing. He wanted to touch you, to feel you coming undone around his fingers, your mouth against his. He wanted to hear the sweet nothings you would whisper before you fell asleep, and the dirty things you'd say while he was buried in you.   

He tried to focus, there was only a half hour left before he needed to wake you. He looked back to his papers and reread the same line of text over and over again but still didn't know what it said. His face was burning, he dropped a hand to palm himself through his pants to get any sense of relief. He wished it was yours, wished he had you under his desk mouth around him and his fingers tangled in your hair. 

Your head moved, startling him and snapping him out of his fantasies. Groggy eyes turned and met his as his hand shot back up to the desk, grabbing at any papers they found to pretend like he had been reading them the whole time. The corners of your lips raised into a sweet smile, you reached for your jacket, bringing it back over your shoulder.

“You've still got a little time left, you can go back to sleep.” He half whispered at you.

You _mmmd_ in appreciation, closing your eyes and leaning back against the chair. Reyes let out a shaky breath, never more thankful to be sitting behind a desk. He put his fingers to his temples, attempting to will away the dirty thoughts of you. Sensible mind reminding him that this was neither the time nor the place to initiate anything like this, not matter how much he wanted it. 

 

When it was time for you to leave he stood next to you, fully in control of himself, and gently shook your shoulder. You blinked up at him and stretched your legs and toes, sleepy tingling disappearing as you moved. You swung your legs back into a normal sitting position and looked down realizing how messed up your uniform was.

Reyes turned to your tie, giving you a moment to button up the dress shirt. When he turned back your collar was flipped up and ready for the tie around your neck, he carefully dropped it over your head and tightened it. You stood, circling your jacket around you and buttoning that up as well, then pulled down the edge of your skirt to a respectable length and flattened the front. Reyes crumpled up the cake bag, tossing it and the empty coffee cup into a nearby trash can as you slipped back into your shoes.

"Thanks again Commander, for everything." You reached up, adjusting some of the loose bobby pins on fly away hairs. 

"For the price of a cake and coffee, mi casa es su casa. Anytime." You smiled up at him, and his stomach fluttered. He led you to the door wishing you good luck on your way to your final media event of the day.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I really wanted to thank you all for the nice comments and kudos and for just reading at all; I really can't put into words how thankful I am that everyone has been so kind and supportive! T_T


	17. Frottage, Jesse McCree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: While Overwatch/Blackwatch is operating  
> Notes: Agent/agent dynamic, no warnings :)

“This is, quite honestly, the ugliest thing I have ever seen.” You cringed, staring down at your undercover disguise laid across the bed of the rundown hotel room you were occupying as a base of operations for now. Someone in the ops team was going to get chewed out for forcing you both to wear such hideous outfits.

“Certainly… not what I expected.” Drawled McCree next to you, also examining the clothes. He gathered his up in his arms, heading towards the bathroom to change.

You never minded missions with McCree, they almost always ended in the two of you passing out watching soap operas late at night, and sneaking candy and beer into your room in celebration of a job well done. He was always gentlemanly towards you, giving you the bed if there was only one, letting you through the door first, or offering to pick you up something to eat if he went out and you were stuck on surveillance. Just beneath your friendly banter though was always a flirtation, innuendos that could become reality if either of you acted on your feelings.     

You looked to the door, listening to the muffled sound of water running from the sink and chewing at your lip, then snapped back to the monstrosity of a disguise in front of you. You removed your Blackwatch uniform, setting it aside to put back on later. With a heavy sigh you started with the weapon holster, a wide band that was meant to circle around your waist with straps over your shoulders, keeping your gun flush against your rib cage. Next was the bottoms, tiny khaki shorts that sat high on your thigh, you checked the inside feeling for the hidden zipper concealing an easily accessible sheathed blade, should you need it.

Then the worst part. An oversized loud Hawaiian shirt covered with vivid blue and yellow flowers mixing with leaves of palm trees over a hideously red backdrop. You groaned as you buttoned the shirt up and tucked it halfheartedly into your shorts, bagginess covering the holster around you. You sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on tube socks and stark white sneakers mentally noting everyone on the ops them who was going to get an ass kicking for picking these out. In the bathroom the muffled sound of water stopped, and you heard McCree cursing to himself.

All laced up and ready for the mission you decided to check what was in the string backpack left for you while you waited on McCree. You opened the top and dumped the contents onto the bed in front of you. Two wallets, a tube of sunscreen, a pair of sunglasses and two burner phones. As you looked through the burners and fake information in the wallets, McCree entered the room again looking much more disgruntled than usual. His face was clean shaven, usual cowboy hat replaced with a baseball hat loudly pronouncing some teams name. Matching shirt to yours, his khaki shorts hit knee length and was riddled with pockets. Your eyes traveled down to his feet, ankle socks beneath strapped sandals.

For a moment your mouth hung open in disbelief until you burst out laughing, hitting the bed in a fit of hard giggles. Each time you opened your eyes to say something you’d seen him again and scream, cracking up even more. McCree was looking visibly annoyed, arms crossed as you literally rolled on the bed in laughter.

“Yeah, go ahead and yuck it up, you look just as stupid!” His face was red in embarrassment, you sat up gasping for breaths as you calmed down.

“This wouldn’t be nearly as funny if you didn’t dress like a cowboy every day.” You finally got out. His lips tightened, cheeks burning as he watched you. You offered him his fake wallet, stifling your laughter, which he begrudgingly shoved it into a side pocket.

“Do you know where we’re supposed to be headin’?” He picked up a burner phone, scrolling through it and avoiding eye contact with you.

“Some bank downtown, ops wants us to take the subway so we can blend in with the crowd.” You heard him groan in response, his fingers rubbing against his now smooth chin.

“We best be gettin’ out then.”              

* * *

 

McCree leaned close behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder as you both waited for the subway doors to open. To an outsider, it looked like a couple on vacation to the big city dressed for the wrong destination- just two stupid tourists who don’t know better. Most locals kept their eyes down ignoring everyone else around them, and those who did notice you two would just roll their eyes. Although you preferred the more subtle methods, sometimes playing dumb gets you more information than sneaking around, and these were perfect disguises to act distracted and awed by everything you saw. You looked around, placing a hand over McCree’s at your shoulder. The station was packed, you didn’t even want to imagine how bad it was going to be in the subway car.

With a screeching halt the subway came to a stop before you. Humans and omnics exited in a hurry without offering either of you a second glance. In the car you were left with only standing room, your back pressed to dirty panes of glass as McCree stood in front of you. He shifted around, trying to make room for other passengers, accidentally squishing you into his chest.

"Sorry, darlin'." He mumbled down at you, not really looking. 

Overhead you heard a chime, then air pushing the door closed and the voice indicated the next stop. Stuck against McCree you examined the passengers around you, immediately to your left was a man sleeping with his mouth open and headphones in loudly playing metal music, to your right someone reading a book mostly hidden by the side of the seat. McCree looked down at you, watching as you snarled in disgust at the trash rolling in the corner beneath you. You tried to adjust yourself to get your body in a comfortable standing position, but the subway would jostle you around just enough that you’d lose your footing and sway against McCree.

Someone behind him fell against his back, causing him to snap back angrily before you pulled at his shirt in a reminder to not get into any trouble yet. Now slightly off balance he shifted, placing his thigh between your legs. The person behind him bumped into him again, causing his leg to lift and rock against you.

Involuntarily you leaned into it and let out a small moan, gripping at his shirt. He paused before turning around to bark at whoever pushed into him again, snapping back to watch you with intense eyes wondering if he heard what he thought he did. A sharp curve of the subway brought you down against him again with a gasp. Sparks were flying through your body as you slapped your other hand over your mouth and pressed your forehead against his chest in embarrassment. Your inner thighs tensed around him, heat growing as you humped lightly against him with the swaying of the car.

The curve gave to a straight away and his leg relaxed, no longer pressing against you but idled between your thighs. McCree curled his hand to your lower back, holding you close against him. You looked up, face blushed and wide eyed, his baseball hat covered his eyes in shadow, but you could see a smirk across his lips. His tall frame bent down and hugged you close to him as you tried to hide your face against his shirt.  

“Don’t get shy now.” He whispered against your cheek, placing a small kiss against your burning skin. He lifted his leg, pressing into you again. You let the rocking movements of the car sway you against him as you brought your arms around him to a hug, burying your face against his horrible Hawaiian shirt. His fingers balled the back of your shirt in a fist, his heartbeat pounded against his chest, against your hip you could feel he was growing hard. You circled your hips, small and unnoticeable to those around you, giving in to the urges you had to rut against him. You bit your lip, leaning back to look up at him again.

The car came to a slow, stopping with a rough jolt as you rocked on his thigh, throbbing clit pressed hard against him. Once still, he stretched his leg out, pulling it from between your legs and moving it outside of your leg so he was standing wide in front of you. Overhead the ping of the street name played, one stop away from where you needed to leave. Your eyes scanned to the side watching those who exited and entered the car as you adjusted your shorts to sit right again.

“We need to get off soon.” You passively said to McCree as he pressed his chest against you. You shifted your legs so your thighs were together and your knees between his as you leaned on the window behind you. McCree let out a low short laugh next to your ear.

“Oh, _I’m sure we do_.” You hit his chest gently at the insinuation.

“McCree, focus.” You whispered out of ear shot of anyone else on the car.

“I wasn’t gettin’ all hot ‘n bothered ‘till you were ridin’ my thigh like that.” His hand followed the curve of your back, over your ass and rested at the bottom of your cheek. “Didn’t know you were such a tease.” He practically purred into your ear. You glanced down, his hard on was becoming less noticeable.

“Let’s just get this done, we’ll talk about it later.” You were trying desperately to not blush harder than you already were. Part of you was humiliated your body reacted like that, the other part was hoping he’d take you up against this glass right now. He squeezed your ass then brought his arm up and used it to prop himself against the window.

“Understood, darlin’.” He smirked down at you, licking his lips before he focused his attention on surveying his surroundings.

* * *

 

The mission itself was a simple one. Act like a tourist, take pictures, ask questions. The bank you’d been sent to was currently run by omnics, and Overwatch officials had a suspicion illegal parts and weapons for the resistance were being brought through the vaults. After well over an hour of asking the tellers everything you thought about the historic building and 'admired' the architectural work, you think you got enough information for the teams back at Overwatch to analyze, but you wouldn’t know until you returned back to the hotel room and sent it all in.

Avoiding any suspicion just in case anyone had been trailing either of you after that, the two of you visited other tourist hot spots and lingered in the city until late into the evening. By the time you got back to the subway station, it looked practically abandoned with only a few lone soles waiting for the next car. Both of you tired from all the walking, you leaned against McCree as you waited.

To your surprise the car that stopped in front of you was empty, McCree grabbed your hand in his as he lead you in. Over used lights above flickered a sickly green florescent color, the ground was littered with a days worth of travels, and a faint smell of body odor lingered in the air. Exhausted you fell into the first seat you found, McCree next to you. He took off his baseball cap, fluffing his hair trying to fix it after sweating beneath the hat all day.

“Really enjoyed you on me earlier.” He leaned close, closer than he needed to, as he smiled slyly. You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes, of course he’d bring it up the literal second you were alone with him.

“Don’t, it was a complete accident.” You grumbled looking down to your lap and fiddling with the edges of the shorts. He pressed his lips to your ear.  

“You sure ‘bout that?” He brought a hand to your thigh, placing it on the top and running his fingers in small circles. A coil in your stomach tightened as your skin burned under every touch. You’d be in so much trouble if either of you were caught like this, Commander Reyes would absolutely lose his shit if two of his agents were caught going at on a public subway.

Lightly he placed kisses along your earlobe, and down your neck. You sighed into him, placing your hand over his and played with his fingers between yours. His kisses roughened, hand gripping against your thigh as your body responded positively to him.

You turned your face to his stealing his lips with your own, bringing your hand to caress his cheek. His hand on your thigh teased up past your shorts, dropping between your legs. You moaned against him setting your thighs further apart as his palm pushed roughly against you. Fingers slid over you, causing you to gasp against his mouth. Your body reacting with a small jerk every time he rolled over your clit. You snapped open your eyes, and grabbed his wrist moving it away, moving to climb on top of him.   

You straddled over him, knees on either side of his hips pressed into the hard plastic of the subway seats. Sat in his lap you could feel feel his hard cock pulsing in his shorts, you could feel a wet spot already in your panties as you pressed against him feeling his girth against your slit. You circled your hips as his mouth kissed at your throat, hips running along with length. You brought him back into a heavy kiss, feelings from every mission you've held back blossoming to the surface. His hands gripped at your sides, over your breasts squeezing them together and moving to undo the first few buttons. 

Between your legs McCree was rock hard humping hard against you. Your moans were becoming louder, more needy. His fingers found their way under your bra, rolling your nipples between his fingers as you kissed him with passion.   

Overhead a ding buzzed through the speakers. 

"Hey tourists, we have security cameras, you know?" Chimed a robotic voice, from the other cars you saw passengers leaning down the isles and looking into the other cars to see who the conductor was talking to. You scrambled off McCree, covering your face and sinking into the seat next to him, desperately trying to rebutton your shirt. "Thank you!" The voice rang. McCree stifled a laugh into his palm, then grabbed your hand in his and squeezed, the other moving to adjust himself. You crossed your legs, a small wet spot had soaked through you hoped it wasn't visible on the cameras. You sat low in your seat, covering your blushing face, eyes closed ignoring any stares from other cars for the reminder of the ride, as you held on tightly to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen.... idk. I just really want to see McCree in a Hawaiian shirt I guess??


	18. Masturbation, Jack Morrison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: While Overwatch is operating  
> Notes: Coworker dynamic, no warnings!

Working security detail for the bull of a man that was the strike commander always felt a little silly. He wasn’t a small guy by any means, but whenever he was set to do a press event offsite he always had a small group of agents armed and ready to protect him if needed.

You never minded getting picked for security duty, especially if you had to stay the night somewhere. Overwatch made sure to treat their agents right when it came to accommodations, (probably because they just got the rooms adjacent to the commanders) they were almost always well above average, which you appreciated.

 

Your communicator lit up with a security report indicating you’d be sent out in less than two hours. You shot your eyebrows up in surprise- usually they gave you at least a 24 hour notice, and you had just arrived back in from another mission earlier this morning. Then your communicator lit up again, immediately following the report with a call buzzing from the strike commander. You stared down at it, puzzled. Morrison almost exclusively communicated with you either in person or over messages.  

“...Hello?” You answered.

“Did you receive the dossier?”

“Just did, is everything alright?”

“We need to add another person to the detail, last minute. Comms said they received some threats towards me, so we’re just taking extra precaution. Nothing serious, but they wanted at least one person with me whose done this before.”

“Hmm.” You stuffed some of your lunch in your mouth.

“I hope you don’t mind. I asked for you specifically, since you’ve been on my detail so many times.”  

By now you’ve lost count on how many security details you been on with the commander, you were one of the few whose first name he knew (and whose name he knew at all). You chalked this up to the fact that you weren’t scared to talk to him like so many of the others were.

“Is it an over night?”

“It is. That’s why I wanted to call, if you’re not okay with it we’ll try to switch you with someone else-”

“No, no it’s alright I don’t mind!” You were hoping to sleep in your own bed tonight, but really you had nothing else going on the next few days and no real reason to decline.

“Thank you, I appreciate it. I really do.”

“Of course, sir.”

“See you at the dropship.” With that the conversation was over, you quickly finished what was left of your food and scrambled to repack your bag and prepare your weapons.

* * *

 

You were greeted at the ship by the commander, bright blue commander jacket standing out like a sore thumb between the dark security detail where the most vivid color found was on the Overwatch symbol stitched across the backs of the jackets. Four agents stood around him, new ones you recognized vaguely from other teams but hadn't worked with directly.   

The ride out was estimated to take about three hours. After take off, the cadets huddled together around the pilot excitedly asking questions about how the ship worked, and enjoying the view of the open sky. You sat with the commander around a small booth as he read something on his communicator. You laid your head in folded arms against the table, watching the cadets laugh and joke around with each other. The commander smiled at you.

"Thanks again, for coming on such short notice."

"Anytime. I'll take this over security for diplomats and royalty any day." You rolled your eyes, recalling bad experiences of princes pulling your hair and senators spitting on you because you forgot their title. "At least you treat me like a human."

Small talk about how your other missions were going and how he was handling things as commander lead to a lull of silence. The rest of the trip spent with you reading over the threats comms found against the commander, and coming up with ways to respond should anyone try anything at either the press conference or when traveling to and from the hotel. 

 

When the dropship landed on site there were already reporters shouting from the ground. You rolled your eyes, pulling sunglasses over your face and getting the agents into formation. Having the most experience you walked ahead of the commander, the others at his sides and two behind him. Immediately you whisked him away to the backstage of a large outdoor auditorium.

While he stood at the podium speaking your eyes scanned the crowd, check ins and positions chiming in over your ear piece. At the end the crowed cheered in applause for Morrison, and you quickly brought your team around escorting him to an armored car and to the hotel. 

 

The pilot and crew had already checked into the rooms, meeting you in the lobby for the keys. As usual, you were given a key for your room and key for Morrison's room, should anything happen and you need to get in. The rooms were on the highest floor, tucked in a corner away from other guests. The new cadets went silent as everyone rode the elevator up, eyes staring at the commander in admiration or fear. You congratulated Commander Morrison on another great speech and he smiled back at you warmly. Formation around him broke as you exited to the top floor, cadets lagging behind as you walked side by side with the commander escorting him to his room. You wished the commander a goodnight as he slipped into his room as you followed the cadets to yours next door. 

It didn't occur to you until you entered your room that there were five people packed in together. You paused after you entered, staring at the two queen beds. The cadets awkwardly set their bags on each side of the beds. Halfheartedly they apologized that they already 'called dibs' and that you were stuck with the floor. You nodded your head, annoyed that not only were you now not sleeping in your bed tonight, but you weren't even sleeping in a bed at all. The other agents changed into their sweats as you searched the closet for an extra pillow or blanket, finding none. You rifled through cabinets and drawers wondering if extra bedding was tucked away somewhere. Their voices loudly overlapped each other, talking in excitement about how well their first security detail went. Even more annoyed now with the noise, you rubbed your temples and announced you were going to get an extra blanket, letting the door slam behind you.

In the silence of the hallway you leaned back against the door, trying to accept the fact that you probably weren't sleeping tonight between the floor and their nonstop talking. You could still hear them, muffled on the other side. With a click the commanders door opened next to you, he poked his head out. 

"Everything alright out here?" You turned, surprised. 

"Yes, sir. Just need to head to the front desk for something." You rubbed your eyes again, then smiled up at him. He looked at you with mild suspicion, and nodded his head. You started towards the elevator, offering him another goodnight and told him you hoped he slept well (because you knew you wouldn't be).   

* * *

 

A hard knock against the wall coming from inside the commanders room startled you as you walked by in the hall. You paused, listening for any sounds of struggle and heard nothing. Alarm bells started ringing in your mind, something just wasn't sitting right, you couldn't leave without checking. You knocked at his door, pillow and blanket from the front desk tucked under your arm. No answer, you knocked again a little harder this time. Still nothing, you pulled him room key out of your pocket and opened the door a crack.

“Sir?” You peaked in, most of the lights were off with the exception of a ray against the carpet coming from the half opened bathroom door from inside the separate bedroom. The sound of a shower running drowned out your footsteps as you carefully closed the door behind you, and set down your things next to the door and hovered a hand over the gun in your holster. 

“Fu-uuck!” You heard the commander groan, followed by a heavy thud against the wall. A sense of panic overtook you, thinking he must be hurt and instincts kicked into overdrive as you rushed towards the bathroom.

Palm against the cracked door you froze as you listened. He was grunting, but it didn’t sound like pain.

Heart racing expecting to see a beaten and bruised man, you peered through the crack. Immediately in your vision was the commander. At the back of a doorless shower he was leaned heavily against the wall open towards you, eyes squeezed shut, one arm propped against the wall the other pumping furiously at his cock. A wave of embarrassment rushed over you, feeling foolish for having not realized the signs earlier, but thankful you stopped yourself before busting in. 

A gasp caught in your throat as you watched him, unable to rip your eyes away. Beads of water forming all over his muscular body, his blond hair stuck to his forehead as he was panted out your name between uttered curses. Your eyes widened, you focused in on his words over the loud sound of rushing water, checking to make sure you weren't just hearing things. He was definitely moaning your name. Your whole body felt like it was blushing, seeing the commander be brought to such a state just at the thought of you was almost mind numbing. You placed a hooked finger between your lips, hoping to stay quiet as you leaned against the door frame in disbelief.

You bit down, mind drifting to all the times you went on details with him and he was stuck alone in these hotel rooms probably doing exactly this. You wondered if he’s ever hoped you’d catch him like this before. You wondered what he was picturing doing to you in his mind right now.

How long has he been thinking of you like this? Was it years ago when you first started details with him? Was it months ago, after you accidentally stopped short in front of him and his body crashed against your back, his hand landing on your hip grabbing hold so he didn't push you over accidentally, followed by a flurry of apologizes? You thought back to the times he woke up earlier then the agents on his detail and you would have quiet mornings together, sipping freshly brewed coffee in his room while everyone else got ready for the day. Or the time you traveled with him for over 18 hours on a stuffy plane with no food, raiding the hotels vending machines together as soon as you got there, buying everything you both could because it was 2 am and everything was closed. You tried to pinpoint if somewhere along the line his behavior changed, but you blanked. 

Your cheeks burned at the thought of him watching you while you worked and you didn't know, wondering if he would watch you swing your hips as you walked in front of him, or how his eyes fell on your lips sometimes when you spoke to him then would snap up and stare into your eyes intensely. The grunts he was making in the shower were becoming more frequent, his mouth hanging open as he worked himself. What would his big hands feel like if they ran all over your body, you wondered. Would he be sweet with you, of would he want to wrap those fingers around your neck and call you dirty names? You thought about him laid out on his bed back at base, writhing into his palm at the thought of you, late at night when he was trying to sleep but couldn't think straight.           

Breathing hot and rapid against your palm, part of you wondered how he’d react if you threw off all your clothes and joined him. You continued watching tempted to start touching yourself as well when he gasped through waves of pleasure, cumming into the drain below him. He stood hunched over shooting loads to the floor, whispering your name again almost as a sob. The commander stood under the running water with a shudder, palms rubbing against his face and through his hair. He let the hot water rain down against skin, stomach twitching in aftershocks as he caught his breath. His hand lingered against the handle then committed to turning the water off with a sigh.

It suddenly occurred to you now how quiet the room had become. You darted from the door, creeping back into the darkness of the room and picked up your things. The bathroom opened, flooding the bedroom with light and you had to make a quick decision. You held your breath then opened and closed the door to the hallway, turning back to face the room and clearing your throat.

“Commander Morrison, sir?” You hit the lights, now able to see the small living room setup in it's full brilliance. In the bedroom you saw a shadow across the floor quickly dip back to the bathroom, the commander called out your name surprised.

“I knocked but I didn’t hear you so I let myself in. I checking to make sure you're okay?” Technically, you weren’t lying. The commanders head peaked around the corner at you, hair wet and dripping onto the carpet, cheeks stained pink.

“Hope I didn’t scare you, everything’s alright here.” He sounded out of breath. 

“Looks like it.” You shifted in place. His eyes fell to the pillow and blanket tucked at your arm.

“What’s with all that?” He asked, disappearing back into the bedroom as you heard him shuffling with his clothes.

“Well they put me on your detail but forgot to get an extra room, with five of us all in one I’m stuck with the floor.” You fiddled with the edge of the blanket, he probably didn't actually care about hearing that. His upper half leaned back into sight, tight black shirt now hugging his shoulders.

“The floor?” He disappeared again, then you heard him hop and he stepped out into the room in dark gray sweatpants. “My senior detail agent gets  _the floor?”_ You blushed, unsure how to interpret the possessive language.

“They all seemed to know each other already and were comfortable sleeping in the same beds, so I didn’t want to make a thing out of it.” You tried to play it off nonchalantly. He looked at you, almost in disbelief then turned to the small couch on the other side of the room and gestured towards it. 

"I have an empty couch if you want to sleep somewhere a little more comfortable." He glanced back at the bedroom. "Or you can have the bed. But you're not sleeping on the floor like some cadet just starting to pay their dues."  

"Commander Morrison, really it's alright, I don't mind." He held out his hands in front of you reaching for the pillow. You pulled away, chewing at your lip. He sighed dropping his hands, eyes lowered as he nodded and glanced back at the couch. 

"Well, you have a key to get in if you change your mind." You grinned up at him. 

"Thank you sir, that's very kind." You turned the handle on the door, pausing before you left. "Goodnight, again." 

"Goodnight." That's now the third time in an hour you've said goodnight to him, you felt a little silly as you shut his door behind you.

When you entered your room, the cadets were still awake and talking. You took your time getting ready to sleep, preparing your makeshift bed on the ground in front of the door and changing into your casual sweats and tank top. You brushed your teeth longer than necessary, ran your comb through your hair more times than you needed, stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror while you wished the cadets would just fall asleep on demand. The sound of a shower running and the commander whispering you name played over and over again in your mind, making you blush. You shouldn't have stayed, shouldn't have witnessed that. You couldn't stop thinking about it, even when you pressed a cold washcloth to your face, or when you squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head.  

Carefully you lowered yourself to the floor and under the blanket. The ground was as uncomfortable as any ground is. Hard, cold, the dirty carpet scratchy against your arms and shoulders. The cadets at least listened to you telling them they needed to turn off the lights, but they continued giggled conversations with each other in loud whispers thinking that wouldn't bother you just as much as talking would. 

* * *

 

When midnight rolled around two of them had fallen asleep, but the other two were still scrolling on their communicators, conversation still rolling and stifling laughter. You finally had enough and shot up from the floor, angrily grabbing your spare blanket and pillow and tossing your bag over your shoulder. You let the heavy door slam behind you, uncaring if it woke the other two up in the process and swiped your key at the commanders door gently shutting it after you entered.   

His room was quiet, the only noise was the buzzing of the air vents from the ceiling. Lighting the room with the dulled screen of your communicator, through the semidark you felt your way back to where you remembered the couch being, hands landing on an armrest. Relieved to finally have some peace you placed your pillow down on one end, and dropped your bag carefully to the ground with your communicator on top then wrapped yourself in the blanket and sunk against the cushions. Finally comfortable, right as you were drifting to sleep you noticed behind closed eye lids a light click on in the bathroom, the door wide open. You held your breath, not hearing any noises other than him pacing the tile floor.   

"Commander Morrison?" You squeaked out as you sat up. His shadow moved across the ground, then flipped on the light switch in the living area. His hair was fluffy and messed from tossing against a pillow, sweatpants riding low on his hips and shirtless.  

"Glad to see you came back." You nodded in agreement, he was right, you should have just slept here. You could feel the blush creeping up to your skin as you stared at him. 

"I appreciate the offer, sir."  

"At ease. We're both in pajamas, I think that overrules any formalities." You laughed at him, moving the blanket to cover yourself more. Your cheeks burned as you looked down realizing he had full view of your sweats and low cut tank top, then your whole body felt like it was on fire when you realized your nipples were obviously poking against the fabric. When you looked back up he was purposely looking away into the darkness of the bedroom. He cleared his throat. "Well, goodnight. Again." 

"Goodnight, sir- Goodnight Morrison." You flipped around, hiding your face against the backrest in embarrassment as he turned the light back off and climbed into bed.

 

After a while you flopped onto your back, staring up at the black nothingness in the dark. You were sweating even though the room was cold, curling your toes just thinking about how close you are to him, how you could go climb on top of him right now, kiss down his body and tell him you enjoyed the show earlier. You bit your lip, sliding a hand into your pants and tested the outside of your panties. You ran your fingertips along the soft fabric, wondering how it would feel if they were his hands instead. Your body twitched in anticipation as you dropped one leg off the couch and propped the other against the back rest, fingers running along your covered slit. You pushed against your entrance exactly where you'd want him, imagining he'd enter you deep and pump slow at first. 

A small whine left your lips and you gasped in holding your breath, hoping he didn't hear your noises or you shifting beneath your covers. In the next room you heard him move around in bed then come to still. Letting out the breath you resumed sliding up your folds and circling your fingertips against your clothed pulsing clit, imagining all the variations of what you thought he'd be like. Maybe he'd be gentle and suck on your neck as he ran circles with his fingers in you. Or maybe on a rough day he'd snap into you chasing his own release, pulling your hair as you begged for more. 

Then you heard your last name. It was a whisper, from the doorway of the bedroom said somewhere between and question and a groan. You stopped moving, frozen in panic. He didn't turn the light on, but if he had he would have caught you, blanket fallen to the ground, legs stretched apart, and hand warming between your thighs.  

"Is everything alright? It sounds like you're having a bad dream." His voice came softly a few feet away from you.

"Sorry, I'm okay. I just... can't get comfortable." Liar, liar, liar. When did it get so easy to lie to your commander? You carefully pulled your hand from your pants and brought your legs back together. He didn't respond right away, instead you heard him shuffle towards you. When he spoke again he was leaned down his face was close to yours, not yet invading your personal space, but definitely closer than you would even need to get in a dead silent room.        

"Hmm." He responded, sounded distracted. For a brief moment you wondered if he could somehow see you blushing in the darkness. You waited for him to say something else, instead feeling his body sit on the floor next to you and lean against the couch.  

"Sir?" Your voice was small. He chuckled next to you. 

"You don't need to use formalities right now." He reminded you. "Please, call me Jack." His voice was quieter, laced with sleep. You wondered what his expression was in the dark. 

You took a few shaky breaths, licking your lips and opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. His hand clumsily fumbled in the dark, falling to your shoulder and resting on the curve. He was breathing through his nose, heavier than usual. You were sure he could hear your heartbeat thudding against your chest and you tried to gather your courage to say anything. His fingers rubbed against your skin lightly, sending goosebumps down your arm.   

In your mind his hand trailed across your collar bone and down into your shirt, gripping your chest, squeezing as he pulled at your nipples. You'd lean forward and kiss him as his fingers dipped between your folds and felt how wet you were. He would kneel against the couch and you would suck his cock as his fingers worked magic in you curling and twisting with your face pressed against his blond pubic hair.  

"I hope I haven't crossed a line, I consider you a friend." He paused, seeming to try to chose his words carefully. "But, I understand if you don't want to be on a first name basis with your boss." He whispered, voice low and facing away from you. You realized you were so lost in your fantasy you hadn't responded to him.  

"Jack." You muttered under your breath, then let out a small chuckle. He squeezed at your shoulder. "I feel like I'm breaking the rules by saying that." You weren't sure what was making your heart race faster, almost getting caught with your fingers between your legs by your commander, or having permission to call him by his first name. _"Jack."_   You stated again, unintentionally adding a sensual undertone.

You heard him catch his breath, legs shifting somewhere near you in the darkness. His hand trailed up your skin and rested against the accelerated pulse at your neck. You froze, body trembling under his touch. He breathed out your name as his fingers tangled into the base of your hair, pulling you to sit up so you were face to face with him. 

Against the floor you heard the deep vibrations of your communicator receiving a call. The room filled with a dim blue glow, you glanced down at the name of one of the new cadets shaking across the screen. Jack's face was watching you, features softened by the faint light. He gently pulled his hand from your head, fingers leaving a ghostly trail across your skin as they left, and picked up your communicator, placing it in your palm. 

"Yes?" You answered, annoyed already.

Overlapping voices filled the receiver, panicked questions about where you went and if they should be worried. The new cadets had worked themselves into a frenzy, assuming the worst after you disappeared with all your things and without a word. You barked at them to be quiet.

"I'm fine, I'm in another room. Listen, if you all don't settle down and go to sleep _right now_ I'm going to report to your commanding officers that none of you could handle a simple security detail." You heard stunned silence, then grumbling coming from the other end. This job was starting to feel more like a babysitting mission than anything else, you rubbed your thumb against your temple. "Understood?" You scolded at them.

A chorus of 'understood's rang back at you. You ended the call, and lowered the communicator between you and Jack, trying to read his face as the light faded back into darkness. 

"Took them a while to notice you were gone." You heard his voice close to you. You scoffed. 

"Please never put me on another detail with them again, I don't know if I can take it." You fiddled with the phone in your fingers, nail picking at the edge of the casing. "But, I should probably get some sleep as well, it has been a really long day." His hand cupped yours, making your heart jump into your throat. You lowered your voice to almost a whisper. "You should get some sleep too, Jack." His fingers twitched around you when you said his name. He waited a few moments before speaking again, his hands disappearing from yours as you heard him stand in front of you.   

"Well," He started. You smiled down at your hands, unknown to him. "Goodnight, for real this time."  

"Goodnight Jack."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More over used cliches! :)


	19. Role Reversal, Gabriel Reyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: While Overwatch is operating  
> Notes: Agent/commander dynamic, pegging, short one! This one's nothing but smut! :)

You sat in the Blackwatch commanders office, leaned back in his chair with your feet propped up and crossed on his desk waiting for him to find you. Gabe opened his office door and paused when he saw where you were sitting. He sucked his lip, tsking at you, as he gently closed and locked the door behind him. He tilted his head back arrogantly, removing his dark gloves finger by finger. 

“We both know you’re not allowed to sit there, agent.” His mind flashed back to the last time he caught you in his chair, your punishment for disobeying his rules played out for hours as he used your body only for his own pleasure, then didn’t let you touch yourself for a week. By the end you were a begging mess, desperate for release and promising you’d never do it again.

“On your knees.” You demanded, rocking in his chair.

“Excuse me?” He shot you a surprised and dark look.

“I said-” You turned away from him, dropping your legs to the floor. “On your knees, _commander_.” You heard him laugh low as you looked over your shoulder at him. He threw his gloves to the floor, rubbing his hands together while his mind ran wild with the thought of spanking you over his desk until cried and apologized for your blatant disregard of his status and his office.  

When you stood and turned to face him, his body froze and eyes immediately dropped to your crotch. Just beneath the stretched fabric of your tightest yoga pants, pressed and curving hard against your thigh was an artificial cock. You smirked, watching his eyes light up as he quickly obeyed and started removing his clothes, understanding immediately.

You tossed your shirt to the side, taking your time to roll down your pants revealing the thick flesh colored strap on. He was already breathing loud through his nose, cock hard and pointing at you by the time he was out of his pants. He lowered to the ground, gently falling on his knees as he watched you.

The fantasy of taking him like this started with a finger in his ass while you were blowing him, then a finger during foreplay to get him hard instantly, then it became a butt plug while he fucked you- afterwards he gasped out that he'd never cum so hard in his life. Then you found his toys, tucked away in the back of his underwear drawer. He had his plug there, and next to it a fairly averaged sized dildo with a mostly empty bottle of lube. From that moment you hatched your plan, biting your lip in impatience for this day to come.

Now you towered over him as he sat atop his legs on the floor. Your hand cupped his cheek, lovingly running your thumb across his skin. His cock was bobbing between his legs, pulsing as his eyes flickered between your face and the strap on. You dropped your thumb to his mouth, running your finger tip across his lower lip. When Gabe did this to you he would be sweet, he'd call you a good girl and praise you for following his rules. He made you feel special. 

"Open." You demanded. He dropped his jaw, your fingers traced his lips again before shoving in your pointer and middle finger and pressing down on his tongue. Dark intense eyes stared up at you as his lips closed around them, mouth sucking the digits and tongue licking between them. Just below his shoulder was bouncing, first pumping in his lap. Focused eyes started wandering your body, taking in the new exciting sight. You pulled your fingers from him, clicking your tongue.

"Ah-ah." You scolded, waving a finger in his face. "Touch yourself without permission and I won't let you cum." You leaned down, placing a kiss against his forehead. His fist released the cock in his hand, instead moving to grip at his meaty thigh. "Now, bend over."

He moaned, low and loud as he pushed his body forward, ass in the air. You teased your wet fingers against his exposed hole, twirling around the entrance and dipping in just the tips. From your pile of clothes you pulled a small lube bottle, popping open the cap and squeezing a few drops on your fingers. Gabe was breathing heavily, panting as he dug his nails against the carpet of his office. 

You knelt down behind him and pushed one finger in, slowly to start. Easily you were able to reach your knuckle, then you twisted and curled against his insides, drawing out a long moan from the man beneath you. As you added a second finger his pose got more relaxed, hips dipping closer to the floor, legs bent lazily as you worked him. He made no attempt to stop the noises he made as you pumped in him, scissoring his walls and stretching him. You bit your lip, holding back a wicked smile, watching as he enjoyed himself on your fingers. With a whine you pulled your digits from him, continuing to stretch him as you left. He looked over his shoulder at you, eyes half lidded and mouth open.

You squeezed lube into your palm, coating the dildo until it was shiny and slick. With your other hand you reached down, grabbing his hip and helping him back in place. He turned back to look at the floor, body trembling as he waited for you. Clumsily you lined yourself at his hole, holding the toy at the tip to place it correctly.

You pushed against him, not yet entering as you ran your other hand over his lower back. You circled the tip against him, teasing and making his breath hitch each time you almost pushed in. He started grunting, getting impatient and pressing his hips towards you. As he was rolling his face against the carpet you carefully guided the tip in, his hole tight and swallowing around it. He let out an audible gasp, eyes flying open unfocused on the room around him. You stayed there not pushing any further, rubbing his lower back still, letting him catch his breath for a few moments before you spoke.

"Is it too big?" He arched against you in response, pushing against the toy. He mumbled, voice drifted off as his hips slowly sunk down, taking the strap on at his own pace. Bouncing as he reached the middle, then pushed down until he was at the base. He stayed still, feeling the full girth inside him, soaking in new feeling as it stretched against his walls, larger than anything he'd taken before. His body still wanted to take control over you, hips now slowly rocking against the toy as your hands pressed against his back. You smirked, knowing Gabe was such a control freak he would want to still be in charge even as he was underneath you. 

You snapped your hips back, then drove into him. He moaned against the carpet as you hit his prostate, flashes of white coursing through his body. You leaned back as you pumped into him, reveling in the sight of taking such a giant muscular man in this way. You tried to imagine what he was must see every time he does this to you, back stretched out and tensing with every thrust, fists gripping to anything in sight. The noises he made were intoxicating, a man desperate for you to continue, mixing Spanish curse words and your name together in his mutterings. 

You pulled from him, angling up and rocking the length of the toy between his cheeks. He was vying for more, fingers trailing up his thigh and resting against his groin. He growled beneath you, empty and desperate to touch himself. 

"Against the desk." You demanded, standing.

He brought himself up, tall frame leaning on his desk and scooting it forward just a little under his weight. He bent his legs, giving you a better angle as you positioned yourself again. The toy slid back in with ease, deep groans of satisfaction rumbled out of him. As you set your pace again, his body bounced against yours panting as you rode over his prostate. His fingers gripped the edge of the desk, squeaking filling the room as you rocked into him. Your pace was fast and unforgiving, wanting to bring him up further than you ever had. 

Your hand explored his hip, teasing his skin as you circled around and pressed your palm to his bellybutton and slid down to his base. He sighed into your touch, and you gripped him pumping his length in tune with your hips.     

He sighed into your touch, and you circled him, pumping his length in tune with your hips. He was getting needier, closer to the edge with your hand around him and the toy inside him. You drove into him relentlessly, offering no breathers, no time to escape the high.

His grunts becoming louder and angrier until you felt his cock pulsing against you palm. You didn't slow down as you made you hit his prostate over and over again, squeezing and twisting his dick as he came hard against his own chest. Body twitching as his loads shot warm against him, a low moan ripped from his throat and wound down into a whine.

His breathing was labored, mouth dry and eyes half open. He shivered as he leaned his full body weight against his desk, you carefully pulled the toy out unstrapping the harness from your hips and kissed his shoulder blades. Under his breath he halfheartedly threatened to get you back for surprising him like this, and you chuckled gathering up both your clothes and handing him issues to clean himself with.                      


	20. Formal Wear, Amélie & Gérard Lacroix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: While Overwatch is operating, pre-Talon Widowmaker  
> Notes: Coworker dynamic (with Gérard), alcohol mention/use

When you first met Amélie she knocked on the door to Gérard’s office while you were reviewing new plan details with him. Tall and beautiful, her hair pulled into a tight bun at the top of her head with her dance bag over her shoulder, her presence felt like all the air was sucked from the room and a spot light was shining directly on her. They greeted each other in loving French admirations before Gérard introduced you as his best officer. You blushed lightly and rolled your eyes, guessing he introduced every officer as his best officer.

She had leaned down and kissed both your cheeks as she said hello, then kissed Gérard so passionately you thought you might need to give them the room. She sat with you as you finished your meeting with Gérard, then stayed through lunch. As you ate she spoke about her shows, and her travels. She told you the beginnings of her life story as she leaned towards you with stories that wove with rich family lines, handsome estates and long lists of powerful people. That day you got to see a different side of Gérard, one that wasn't just all business, but one that hung on every word from his wife's mouth, one that stared at her with eyes glittering. He was a man who was so deep in love he was blinded by everything else around him.  

Then she started coming around often, dropping in when she knew you were working in the office with Gérard. At first you thought maybe she was jealous you were spending so much time alone with her husband. She would plant herself in his lap and hang around his neck, eyes carefully watching your reaction. Her shirts were getting tighter and lower with every visit, your personal space becoming less and less personal, her questions becoming more about your life outside of work. She seemed very interested in knowing everything about you, fascinated with every aspect of your dull day to day life in contrast to hers.  

When you did have a chance alone with Gérard his conversations almost always rounded back to Amélie. What musicals she was dancing in, her most recent trip to Italy, the way she doted over you after you after you would coffee to catch up with her when she was back in town. Between both of them, within months you felt like you knew their whole lives together. You enjoyed spending time with them, you enjoyed watching their culture, so different from your own, mix into your world. They made you feel included, never a third wheel if you tagged along on a lunch date or spent an evening gossiping over wine in their lavish apartment. They talked about one day spending a weekend away with you showing you the biggest and best art museums in the country, or talked about flying you to France for their favorite fancy dinner with multiple course meal that cost more than you make in a month.

* * *

 

Late on a weekend morning Amélie took you out shopping to an expensive boutique to find you a dress for an auction gala she convinced you to attend with them. You tried to decline, excuses that you had nothing to wear, no money to spend. She cried out.

“Ma chérie, please you must. These auctions are so boring and Gérard is so competitive he hardly pays attention to me, come entertain me.” You held strong, telling her you would just get in the way, she cupped your face in her hands and plead for you to join her until you broke down and agreed.    

Not yet finding a dress she liked for you (that one would clash against hers, this one dragged on the floor to long, that one was beautiful on you but didn’t fit the theme) you stopped for a quick pastry breakfast before continuing to other shops. Amélie batted her eyes and fixed her lipstick while she stared into a compact. She looked at you, then back to her lips.

“I have a, oh, what's that American word…” She stared into the mirror thoughtfully, parting her lips. “A _crush_ on you.” You almost spit out your water at the unexpected announcement.

“Amélie, I'm not sure that's the word you mean?”

“Is it not?” She snapped the compact shut and placed it in her clutch. “That is the term you use when you have feelings for someone, hmm?”

“Are you trying to tell me you feel like I'm your friend?” This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve corrected her when she said something than didn't translate quite the same. One time she lovingly called you a sardine, and you had to gently let her know that’s not a preferred pet name in English.

“A friend I wish to be with between the sheets, yes.” You blushed deep, choking on your words.

“You want to sleep with me?”

“Sleep? Non.” She sighed. “Gérard and I want to make love to you.” You closed your eyes placing your scone down on its tiny plate, then squinted back at her.

“...Gérard?” You finally pushed out from your lungs. She gasped, small and to herself.

“That coward didn't talk to you, did he?” She clicked her tongue as you shook your head no. “He has had feelings for you for quite some time as well.” She sighed as she leaned on her palm, closing in on your personal space.

“You both...?” Your voice faded.  

“Of course, mon amour! I begged him to let you come home with us the first time we met, but non, he wanted to keep things strictly _professional.”_ She pouted as she watched cars zip by out the window. “I think he was just afraid you'd reject him.”

Your mouth hung open, realizing that all the times she visited, and all the attention seeking behavior, it wasn't out of spite to keep Gérard’s eyes on her, but rather to flirt with you. It was deeply flattering, and shocking, as you processed her words. Amélie was not a stupid woman. She must have seen the way you stared when she kissed her husband, she must know that you 'accidentally' bump your knee against Gérard's during meetings and leave it there. 

“We'd love for you to still come with us to the gala, even if you're not interested in spending time with us afterwards.” You brought your mind back down to Earth, staring at her.

“Of course I'll still go!” You chimed. “Um, I think I might need to think about…” You weren’t even sure how to say it without sounding lewd. “Afterwards.” Amélie smiled brightly back at you, placing her hand over yours on the table.

“My dear friend, please take all the time you need.”

You spent the remainder of the day with her, continuing to visit shops, carrying on as if the conversation haven't even happened. Before you parted, she kissed your cheeks leaving light lipstick stains on each and bid you a warm farewell. The next time you saw her would be at the gala, as she traveled away for a show this week. When you arrived back at home in the evening, arms full of bags with things for the event you bit your lip, silently complimenting Amélie on her ability to be so natural, so graceful, with you as she navigated your feelings. 

 

Back at the office the next day you had no reason to be as nervous as you were acting. After all, Gérard was the same rank as you, held no power over your head, and relations between same level agents were allowed so long as it didn’t interfere with work. It was a no pressure situation, but you just knew Amélie had told Gérard of her conversation with you, and you were anxious to face him to discuss how you felt about it.

You would have never known Gérard felt any way about you other than friendly, if she hadn't told you. You tucked yourself away in the far corner of the building away from your department and read back on his messages and emails, realizing they were riddled with small clues, sprinkles of flirtation that you never picked up on before. You dodged Gérard in the halls, hid from your desk when you knew he was looking for you as you stared at yourself red faced in the bathroom.

He finally tracked you down as you were hurried and packing your things to leave for the day. Behind you, he placed his hand gently on your shoulder as you worked at the zipper of your bag. His voice was lowered, out of ear shot of anyone still left with you in the office. You sighed, knowing you'd have to face him eventually, it was only a matter of time before he asked you about it.

“You may have avoided me today, but we do still work together and I will need to talk to you about our attack plans.” He let out a small chuckle, trying to alleviate some of the awkwardness. You chewed your lip as you turned to face him and rubbing your arm, building your courage.

“Gérard?” You started, breathing out nervously. “Do you have any dinner plans tonight? I know Amélie is out of town until the weekend and I think I have some questions about… everything.” His eyes lit up as they raised to meet yours. With a large smile he asked if you could wait, pulling his phone from his pocket.

He turned and paced the room, then in excited French he spoke quickly into the phone. You heard Amélie’s happy voice responding on the other end as he flickered his eyes around the room and back at you. He held the phone just a little aways from his face as he leaned towards you.

“I would very much enjoy dinner with you.” He held the phone in your direction, grinning. “Amélie wants to speak to you before we leave.” You placed it to your ear with a small greeting.

“Ma chérie, amour, oh my lovely friend. Please ask mon mari anything you need, no question is off limits.” She sounded flustered, voices and piano music mixed in the background. “And if you are comfortable, please give him a kiss for me while I am absent!” Your cheeks burned as you looked back at Gérard. “Enjoy yourselves this evening, I can not wait to see you both soon.” She made a kissing noise into the receiver, and you voiced back a thank you and goodbye as Gérard pulled the phone, responding to her in a few final strings of French before ending the call.

 

Then you found yourself at a table for two splitting a bottle of red wine in a dimly lit restaurant. The conversation started innocently. About work, recent changes in the management, dealings with mission reports of operatives in the field, and developments on projects. Your hand rested on the table, fingers around the stem of the wine glass nervously twisting the base as he moved on to talking about the current show Amélie was performing in, he droned on about the music and set decorating. Gérard’s eyes were soft as he noticed you staring at nothing, placing his fingers over yours around the glass.

“You mentioned you had questions.” You gently scooted the glass away from you and held on loosely to his folded hand as you leaned forward in your seat. “Before you ask them, may I tell you the expectations Amélie and I have with each other?” You were almost relieved he offered to tell you.  

“Yes, please.” You squeezed at his fingers. 

“The first is that we are completely open about everything. If one is uncomfortable with something, we do not continue until we have talked about it and made a decision together.” You nodded, taking a long sip of the wine.

“Second, the first time is always together in our own home. After that, so long as all parties are happy, the physical aspects can take place with either person, anywhere.”

“Physical aspects?” Gérard shot you a knowing look.

“And finally, at the end of the day, Amélie is my wife, and I her husband, and we will let nothing and no one come between us or our love should they try to tear us apart.” His fingers were laced with yours now as a sharply dressed waitress cleared her throat next to you. You parted, allowing her to set down the hot plates. “What do you think?”

“I think that’s fair.” You cut into your dinner. “So with me, would it be… purely physical?”

“That would be up to you. However, both of us would enjoy spoiling you with dates if you gave us the chance.” He smiled devilishly back at you before he brought his fork to his mouth. You were thankful for the dark lighting, sure your face was redder than the tomatoes on his plate. You chewed your food for a while pondering what it would be like to be in an open relationship with them.

“Are there others?” The way he spoke about it was fluid, as if the rules were set based on experience.

“There were. Three others in the past, the last one was before Amélie met you. A handsome dancer from her troupe who broke it off when he found another love. Oh-” He sighed, eyebrows stitched together, holding a hand over his heart. “She was heartbroken for months. But she knew I liked you very much, so that’s when she decided to visit, to meet you, and she was absolutely smitten.” Your leg was bouncing, you felt like you were going to break out in a cold sweat.

“I’ve never done anything like this before Gérard. I-I don’t want to ruin the friendship I have with either of you.”

“You won’t, my darling.” He placed his hand back over yours. “At any time, now or in the future you can stop if you no longer want it and our friendship will continue on.”  

You continued your dinner as he told you about their previous partners. One was a sweeping romance that fizzled when the novelty of threesomes wore off, another essentially a high end escort which ended on bad terms when he tried to make extra money off them by selling a recorded video of a night together to a tabloid, and the dancer before you a loss to both of them that Amélie greatly admired and mourned when he moved across the world to marry a show director.

By the time he finished recounting his stories and reassuring that everything was up to you, the bottle was empty and dessert plates were cleared. Always gentlemanly, he refused to let you pay, then walked you to the door and waited with you until your ride arrived. He stood close to you in the brisk night air, one hand gently against your lower back. You turned up to face him.

“Gérard-” He looked down to you, leaning in close.

“Yes, my darling?”

“Amélie told me to give you a kiss for her.” You could already feel his breath warm against your skin. You lifted on your tippy toes and pressed against his lips softly as he melted into you, bringing the arm around your back tighter into a full hug. His lips spread to a smile as he pulled away, then placed a peck against your forehead.

“Thank you.” He whispered. “And please remember, you do not need to make a decision now. Nor is there any expectation if you come home with us after the gala this weekend.”

A light buzzing filled the air as a car pulled up in front of both of you. You turned to look at him before climbing in, he couldn’t wipe a wide smile from his face if he tried. With a yearning goodbye you were off, turned around in the passenger seat to watch him as he became a dot in the distance.    

The remainder of the work week went by painfully slow. Projects and meetings kept you apart from Gérard for most of the days. You greeted him as you usually had before, held conversations about attack plans like you used to, things felt normal. Even after the kiss, it felt like nothing had changed, except the way he smiled at you when no one else was looking. A smile that made you hide your blushing face behind your sleeve until you waved him away trying to focus on your job.

* * *

 

You met them in the lobby, glancing at your reflection in the floor length window, thankful Amélie had picked out your outfit. The beaded top of the black dress gracefully fell off your shoulders in stringed loops connecting to a geometric design on the back where it cinched at your waist, chiffon bottom flowing in gentle pleats over your legs to the floor. The expensive stiletto heels made it difficult to balance even as you stood still. You fiddled with your hair until you saw them enter, practically oozing romance when your eyes fell on them.

They were matching in black and white formals. Amélie’s dress was tight around her frame, trumpeting out at the bottom complimenting Gérard’s white suit jacket accented with black art deco patterns across it. Her hair was in a tight twist at the back of her head, dark red lipstick popping against her skin and shiny white pearls in a long string hanging over her neck to her waist. They were both smiling as they approached you, Amélie’s face lighting with excitement to see you again. She brought you into a tight hug, leaning back as her eyes took in the sight of you following every curve.

“I brought you back a gift!” She said, holding your chin between her fingers.

“Amélie, really you shouldn’t have. You have been more than generous with all this.” You motioned your hands to your dress and down to your shoes.

She turned to Gérard behind her, who pulled a thin velvet box from his suit jacket, and placed it in your hand. As you opened it you inhaled, inside was a delicate string of the brightest diamonds you’d ever seen, a thin choker that glittered in every direction as the light hit it. 

“Amélie, I can’t accept this!” You gasped out.

“Nonsense.” Came Gérard’s voice. “You will look absolutely stunning in it.” Between two fingers he carefully removed it from the box as Amélie gathered your hair and held it allowing him to circle the choker around your neck. As he closed the clasp at the back you felt him place a kiss against the base of your neck, sending a shiver down your body.

“You can give it back to me after tonight if you truly do not wish to keep it, but for now it completes your outfit.” Amélie said as she put your hair back in place. You placed your fingertips to it gently, it was so light you almost couldn’t feel it if you weren’t touching it. You grabbed Amélie’s hand, fingers interlocking and thanked her for her kindness, telling her that you missed her greatly while she was away. Gérard ushered you both towards the event hall entrance as he pecked a kiss on Amélie’s cheek.

The gala room was gigantic. Tall ceilings sweeping with dark fabric hanging against the walls, a mix of large tables that could seat at least ten people with smaller ones for more intimate groups. Most tables were already filled with people, dining and drinking as they waited for the auction to start. At the front of the tables was a wood dance floor and behind that a stage with a painted backdrop of an old speakeasy. Geometric patterns traced on accents and lamps enhancing a moody 1920’s theme. In the back of the room were long lines of self serving food stations ranging from assorted cheeses to hand carved steaks with groups of well dressed socialites picking their food.

Near the back at a small round table set for four was a place card with Lacroix written in gold cursive poking out above a dark flower bouquet. Miniature glass boxes enclosed tea candles, lighting the centerpiece delicately. Gérard pulled a chair out, motioning for Amélie to sit, then scooted her in with another kiss to her cheek. You moved to pull out your own chair, but he placed a hand over yours and smiled. You stepped back as he helped you in your seat as well, his hand grazing across your shoulders when you sat. You nervously played with the loop around your neck, watching the stagehands preparing for the auction.

“I’m going to get us some drinks, you ladies behave yourselves while I’m gone.” Gérard removed his coat, draping it across the back of the chair next to you.

“Never.” Amélie replied, looking over her shoulder at him and blowing him a kiss. She slid her chair closer to yours, resting her elbows on the table and watching him as he walked to the bar.

“Gérard was very happy you kissed him.” You fiddled with the skirt of your dress, sucking at your lip and ruining the lipstick Amélie picked out for you. “Every time I called him this week he was just gushing over you.” She reached up, brushing hair away from your face, tucking a piece behind your ear. “I want to kiss you too.” Your face snapped to hers.

“Right here?”

“Ma chérie, so eager!” She leaned closer to you. “I was hoping after this, if you come home with us.”  

“Oh-” You chuckled awkwardly trying to play it cool. “Of course.” She wrapped her hand around yours and your heart jumped. Her attention turned to the stage, the announcer greeted everyone and thanked them for attending their event with a bolstered voice. You both watched, hand in hand, as he described the items they would be auctioning off. Paintings, exclusive tickets to shows, exotic trips, each more lavish than the last. 

Gérard arrived back at the table with two open bottles of red wine, then poured them into glasses at the table. He sat to the other side of you, also scooting his chair closer so all three of you sat facing the stage side by side. He raised his glass in the air.

“To a lovely evening, with the most wonderful women in my life.” You both giggled as you clinked glasses together and sipped. Gérard grabbed the name card in the centerpiece holding it in one hand as the bidding started, the other dropping to your caress your knee under the table.               

A smile lingered on Amélie’s lips, long lashes hanging over her eyes as she stared at you. Her hand fell to the back of your chair, fingers teasing your skin against the base of your neck. You held back a shiver from her touch. Around you the auctioneers voice quickly rattled away large sums as arms raised with name cards in the air. You watched in awe of the exorbitant amounts of money people were willing to spend to win their bids.

As the prices rose so did Gérard’s hand at your leg, trailing above your knee and squeezing you through the fabric. Amélie’s fingers continued to stroke against your skin, following the curve of your neck up to your ear then dragging down back to your collarbone. Their touches so casual, but so intimate, it felt as if they were touching each other and you just happened to accidentally be between them.        

Downing both bottles of wine between the three of you, the evening was winding down with the last bid. You could only make fun of the bidders with Amélie so much before you both became bored of hearing the fast talking auctioneer pounding over the speakers. She sighed, leaning against your shoulder as she watched the stage with indifference. Gérard sighed in disappointment of folding in a bidding war and winning nothing, then turned to you.

“After this there will be music and they’ll switch the food to dessert. We can head out whenever you want.” His fingers sat on the upper curve of your thigh, thumb rubbing in circles. You turned to him with pleading eyes, showing him a bored Amélie against you.

“I think we’re both ready to leave now.” He laughed in return, nodding his head. As he stood he held your head and kissed your hair.

“Sorry to keep you waiting my loves, I guess I can get caught up in the moment at these kinds of things." Amélie huffed at your shoulder. "Come along then.” His phone was already out, ordering a car.

* * *

 

You were familiar with their lavish city apartment, Amélie kept it well decorated and well maintained and  invited you over many times to spend a lazy afternoon. She livened up again as soon as she entered the home, Gérard clicked on oldies music and Amélie pulled the pins from her hair letting the black locks cascade down her frame. She took your hands, bringing your body close to hers as you wobbled on the thin heels. She wrapped her arms over your shoulders, happily talking away in her foreign language while she played with your hair.

“You know I don’t speak French, Amélie.” You giggled at her, pressing your forehead to hers as you circled your arms around her waist.

“She’s telling you she thinks you’re as radiant as sun on summers day in France.” Spoke Gérard leaning against the doorframe to their bedroom.

“Aww.” You cood at her, placing a kiss on her nose.

“And that she wants to see what you’d look like after a night with us in bed.” She shot him a pointed look. “Amélie we both know you said something much more crude, don’t you look at me like that.”

“Ohh~” You leaned against her, your lips falling against her neck and kissing up her chin to the corner of her smile. “Is that true?”

“Oui.” She moved her lips to yours, kissing you deep and holding you close. You smiled against her, kissing her longer and harder than you’d anticipated your first kiss to be. The room around you both almost melted away into oblivion, lost in your own thoughts until Gérard cleared his throat and you both broke to look his direction.

“Should we continue this in here?” Gérard’s voice was deeper than usual. Amélie dropped her hands to yours again, taking a step back from you.

“Yes, I’d love to.” You gleefully headed towards him, Amélie behind you already in the process of working the zipper of her dress.           

 

Amélie sat propped against the pillows on their bed, long legs crossed and fingered curled under her chin playing with the pearls still around her neck as she examined you. Gérard carefully unzipped the back of your dress, letting it fall to the floor and expose you. He held your hands in his and helped you step out of the mass of fabric, bringing you into an embrace against him.

“Come here my darling, let us make you more comfortable.” With one arm hooked at your waist he lifted you, bringing you to the edge of their bed and setting you down. He knelt down in front of you bringing your panties with him, fingers then working the tiny buckles holding your heels at your ankles. Behind you Amélie shifted on the bed, bringing her lips to the tops of your shoulders. Her kisses trailed up your neck over the diamond choker and to your ear, you stretched your head to the side with a smile and gripped at the fluffy comforter beneath you. She moved your hair to one side, out of the way as she planted each kiss against you skin.

When Gérard was finished with your shoes his thumbs ran hard circles on the soles of your tired feet. You sighed out in appreciation as Amélie leaned forward, her warm chest and the pearls pressing against your back as she guided your chin to face her. Your lips found hers and kissed feverishly, her thin fingers cupped the side of your face and grazed against your neck. Lost in Amélie’s world, you registered Gérard kiss the top of your foot, then your ankle, then scattering up your leg and your arm leading to your chest. He was standing between your legs leaned into you, face pressed against your breast, mouth sucking and biting at your nipple. You ran your hand through his hair and moaned against Amélie’s mouth. Her lips parted to a smile, pulling from you and placing a peck against the tip of your nose. She scooted back, as Gérard undressed in front of you, dropping each piece of his expensive suit to the ground without a care.

Amélie now straddled behind you, her legs on either side of your hips and her chin against your shoulder. She rested her hands against the sides of your arms. When Gérard turned to you he was half chubbed, eyes softened as he took in the sight of his wife pressed against another woman. He reached to your face, fingers passing over your open lips and pausing there, then moving to his own body to hold the base of his cock.

“Go on.” Amélie whispered next to your ear, lips returning to kiss along your neck. You started with your hand, wrapping around him and pumping slow until he was fully hard. His hips swayed with your motions, his fingers lacing into your hair. You leaned forward, Amélie pulled back to watch as you pressed your tongue flat against the bottom of his tip then slid your mouth down, bobbing your head until his full length was in. Your eyes stayed open, cast up to watch his face as you gently sucked around him, tongue running along his length as you worked him.

Amélie reached around you, pulling your leg further to side so it draped over her own. Her fingers slowly dragged up your inner thigh, coming to a stop at your folds. You whined around Gérard as the fingers parted you, her middle dipping between and running along your slit.

“Relax.” She barely whispered against the skin of your neck. “We’ll take care of you.” Her warm digit teased at your entrance. Gérard’s eyes watched your face unable to look away as your expression changed when she pressed in. Your lips around him briefly opened during a gasp then continued to bouncing. You panted through your nose as she curled and pumped in you. Her other hand wandered to your chest, grabbing and squeezing. Your own hands were attached to Gérard’s hips as they angled toward you, his fingers locking with the hair on the back of your head.

Wet noises and moans from all members mixed with soft music playing from their living room. Amélie pushed another finger in you, testing your limits and opening your entrance. Above you Gérard spoke in French between happy sighs and moans. He untangled his fingers from your hair and cupped your cheek, gently pulling him off you. He leaned down, kissing your swollen lips hungrily. Amélie relented between your legs and brushed against your clit as she brought her hand to rest against your thigh.

Gérard rounded to the side of their king sized bed, you felt Amélie gently pushing against your body until you stood at the end watching them. Gérard cleared the pillows, tossing them in a neat pile to other side of the room, then laid flat on top of the bed. Amélie felt her way around a bedside drawer and climbed back on the bed sitting next to Gérard. Carefully she removed a condom from it’s wrapper and rolled it onto his cock, placing a kiss at the tip once she finished. You heard Gérard moan your name near the headboard before he sat up to look at you.

“Would you come here?” He said sweetly as he rolled a finger at you. Amélie arched her leg over his shoulders, sitting against his chest and facing you.

“Right here, ma chérie.” She said, wrapping a hand around his dick and twisting lazily. You sucked in a breath as you climbed on the bed, over his legs and sat against his hips. Amélie scooted backwards, Gérard’s face disappeared between her thighs and noises muffled as she rode against him. You lined your entrance against him, slowly lowering and bouncing your hips until he stuffed you. With a satisfied moan you leaned against his body, palms pressing against his rib cage and you bucked against him hard.

Amélie’s own whines mixed with yours as she leaned forward and grabbed your shoulder. Her lips crashed against yous and kissed you as she shook against him. Glancing down you could see he was teasing her with his fingers. You reached down, rubbing against your clit as you continued against him. He was throbbing in you, hips snapping up to meet yours with every thrust. You writhed against him, circling and crying out between Amélie's kisses. Your legs started shaking from the constant movement, your thrusts becoming shallower. 

You kissed Amélie for so long you were panting for air, your hand wandered her body grabbing on to anything you could hold as it did. You heard Gérard mutter beneath her, tapping at her thigh and pushing her hips up. She fell off him to the side, replacing his fingers with her own and continuing to pump herself.

“I want to watch you with her.” She gasped out to him, sliding to the edge of the bed and propping herself on the bed frame.

Gérard sat up, cradling you in his arms as he rocked beneath you taking control of the pace. He licked against your open lips, kissing you through your heavy breaths. You could taste Amélie and red wine, your head felt light as he drove into you and you kissed him back. With strength you didn’t know he had, he lifted you while still inside and pulled you to the edge of the bed, laying your back against it. With one hand he pinched at your nipples, rolling your breast and drawing high whines from you, the other gripped the edge of the bed as he pounded into you harder than he had before. You started seeing stars, your limbs tingling with heat. He was ravishing your body, but when you looked up he was staring at Amélie.

You craned your neck to see her, legs wide and hand shaking at her core. You sobbed out moans, gripping into their comforter just knowing you were going to be the first to break. The sounds leaving their throats and the way they looked at each other, the way they looked at you, was driving you over the edge. You felt the bed shifting as Amélie got closer, Gérard’s face intensified, chest heaving. He wrapped his arms around your back and kissing you again. Your body was trembling almost ready to explode as he pulled from you and flipped you so your ass faced him.

When you roughly met the bed again Amélie was watching, legs open towards you, fingers spreading. You admired her for a moment before Gérard drove back into you continuing his fast pace. Your face not quite close enough to taste her, you reached a hand and pushed against her clit. Her fingers worked herself into a frenzy as she watched you come undone around her husbands cock.

You groaned loud into their bed as your legs twitched beneath him and heat hit you in waves through your orgasm. You thrashed, walls tightening and back arching until finally your body gave way to small throes of pleasure that allowed him to pull out. Your body felt like it was tingling, small shivers sent across your skin as you came down. Behind you still hard, Gérard pumped himself in his hand.

You stayed, hanging halfway off the bed as Amélie laid next to you facing up. You lazily played with her fingers between yours while she got comfortable, turning your body on its side to hold her hand as he ran his palms along her legs.

“Incroyable.” You heard him moan eyes taking in both of you, he rolled off the condom, threw it to the floor, then wrapped her legs around his waist. He entered her slowly, her back arching towards him and pearls draping to the side. He kissed down the front of her body, rocking lightly. He grew to a quickened pace, holding her legs around him as he bed shook with vigor when he pounded against her hips. Your let your free hand wander her body again, fingers rolling her nipples between them, dropping to tease her clit.

She was next to cum, face twisted in pleasure as she squeezed your hand and brought you to a passionate kiss while she gasped against your mouth. You could see the muscles pulsing on her body as she rode out her orgasm with Gérard pumping into her. On her final moan he threw his head back, snapping his hips flush to hers and gripping tightly on her thighs. Small thrusts rode into her as her body shuddered against him. He held her there for a while, breathing hard and sweating until he gently placed her legs against the bed. On his exit pools of his liquid followed behind, leaking out onto the bed below. Amélie turned to you in a breathy sigh, pushing her hair out of her face and fixing her necklace.

“Let’s have dessert, hmm?” You gave her a puzzled, but happy, look. “Mon mari, bring us the macaroons from the fridge if you would be so sweet?” He leaned over and kissed her stomach.

“Of course, my love.” Before he left he grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips. “We are only getting started my darling, rest for now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm... I have no explanation lol  
> I have literally no idea if anyone is even remotely interested in this kind of pairing, but like if Blizzard isn't going to give us any sort of backstory to Widowmaker's life/marriage before Talon, I guess I'll just have to be the one to fill in the gaps! ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	21. Hot Dogging/Intercrual, Hanzo Shimada

When Hanzo snuck you and sake into his room one night, he wasn’t planning on telling you his dirty fantasies. But bottled up jealousy and repressed sexual desires had a way of pouring from his mouth once he got started talking. When his inhibitions were low and his lips loose he leaned in close, red faced and grabbed your thigh, shaking it and groaning low. You blushed too, opening your legs wider, hoping the usually reserved Hanzo was finally making a pass at you.

His face leaned into the crook of your neck and his secrets spilled. On the rare moment he had alone he would think of your legs, think of your ass and think about rutting against you. His cheeks burned against your skin, as he described wanting to fuck you without ever penetrating you. He wanted to squeeze between your cheeks, ride against the backs of your thighs, he wanted to feel you pressed against him, but not enter you, too afraid of pushing himself further than that. You listened to him rattle off for almost half an hour until he fell asleep on your shoulder, fingers under the edge of your panties at your hip as you leaned against him. When he woke, sober and embarrassed, he refused to speak of it again.    

 

Then he snuck you into his room again months later. You wore a skirt and before he even closed the door, you snapped your hips up and flipped the skirt onto your back. You looked over your shoulder, begging for him to do all the things he talked about that night, pleading with him that you wanted to indulge him and know what it felt like to be used in that way.   

You saw his face light up as you bent over, eyes shimmering with excitement. Hanzo pulled his cock from his pants and pressed his hips to your ass. Flopped flaccid against you he was hot against your skin. One hand rubbed your cheek, getting a feel for the curve, then grabbed the top of your panties and yanked up until they pulled deep between your cheeks. You squirmed, hips pushing hard against him in retaliation. 

Using his thumbs he pushed his cock down until your cheeks buried his length between them. He pushed at your back for a better arch and pushed against you, cock hardening now as his length ran over your hole above the panties. His movements were choppy as he strained against the fabric covering you, he squeezed your ass with a hard grunt. You let him rock against you, deep moans releasing with each slow thrust.  

His hips pulled from you, body leaning back behind him to rummage through a drawer at his bedside. When his hands returned they continued the rough groping, his thumb dropping to press against your tight hole through over the fabric, eliciting a moan from you as your thigh muscles clenched in response. You buried your face against his bed, pushing your hips as high into the air as they could.  

Hooked fingers pulled your panties down to your knees, the room filled with the sound of a bottle cap flicking open and gel squirting down on you. It was cold at first, but once his hand began rubbing into your skin it warmed and tingled. He coated you completely between the cheeks, taking extra time to make sure you were slick, and circled at your hole, massaging and pressing against it but never penetrating. Your pussy was left aching, untouched and ignored. 

When his cock returned to your ass he easily slid between your cheeks as he pressed them together to make you tighter around him. He threw his head back, thrusting his hips against you with a hard slapping sound. He arched into you again and again, cock swelling and pulsing with every moan.

He released your ass, then holding his cock at the tip he moved to your thighs. You squeezed them together as he pushed through, moaning at the new and different sensation. With the lube slipping to your thighs, he easily pumped against them, his tip peeking between your legs with every thrust. His body was shaking with excitement and pleasure, never in a lifetime did he think you would offer or act on his fantasies. 

Feeling your legs tensing around him was becoming too much. He grunted and dug his fingers into the skin on your ass. Then with a hard angling of his hips he snapped up and rocked against your slit. You let out the loudest and most sexual moan he’d ever heard, overcome with the new sensation of his cock pressed along you. He rocked against you over and over again, spreading your lips and hitting your clit with every thrust. 

You felt him spasm between your lips, body movements now uncontrolled, warm cum shooting over the tops of your thighs. Trying to catch his breath he shallowly thrust against you, riding out his final spurts before he pulled himself from between your legs and collapsed to the ground with a grin across his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	22. Branding, Reaper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: After the fall of Overwatch  
> Notes: Piercings, branding, choking  
> ** This is a continuation of Chapter 6 Sadomasochism, and is not meant to be read as a stand alone. I really have no idea if it will make sense if you haven't read the other one!

You laid in your bed almost the whole weekend as your body recovered from Reaper. Your mind would play wishful tricks on you, with long hooded shadows in the hallway that weren’t really there, or echos of low growls that woke up you from deep sleep. You wandered room to room in your empty condo hoping the air would shift and he would reappear with strong arms wrapping around you, caressing the bruises he left behind.

By Monday the raised red marks on your ass had gone down, small lacerations scarred over, but you still winced as you slid your pants on to cover them. The rug burn at your knees and forearms faded against your skin, pierced nipples no longer swollen from touch.

The most obvious sign of his ravaging laid against your neck and wrists. Bruised in loops with scarred over cuts, and a sickly dark hickey resting above your veins, you knew there was no amount of makeup that would cover them for work. You ran your fingers over the clothes in your closet, stopping at a boring turtleneck and sighing as you brought it over your body.

* * *

 

Every day after work you came home and waited with baited breath hoping he would return. You would check the fading bruises, run your fingers over thin cuts that became barely noticeable scars. You watched the news every morning, conflicted when you realized you were hoping to hear something about him.

The next time he was supposed to come for the chemical you paced the lab and checked the time way too often. Nothing could hold your attention as you leaned against the counter, head in your hands and unfocused as you tried to write out observations but couldn’t form the words. Every now and then a burst of cold air would push beneath the door and your body would shiver wondering if it was him.

But he never came.

So you waited patiently for him to arrive the next time. You chewed at your fingernail while you filled out reports, rubbing your eyes into the early hours of the morning with no sign of him. He wasn’t in your lab, he wasn’t in the news, no one online wrote about getting a glimpse at Reaper in over a month. You yearned for a way to contact him, to contact Talon or find out anything about where he was but you were at a loss, with no resources and no one to turn to.     

When you were home alone you realized just thinking about him and what he did to you was no longer getting you off. You tried every toy you could think of, every setting and every speed, your body would twitch and clench down but nothing could push you over the edge. Every orgasm ruined seconds before you finally got your high, the frustrated tears would sob with painful cramps of unreleased tension.

You didn’t take him seriously when he threatened to ruin you. Didn’t know that when he said one would else would be able to do what he did, that he also meant you.

* * *

 

Then two months went by. You thought that maybe this was his way of killing you. That maybe he actually was the cruel and heartless man everyone made him out to be, that maybe he personalized the way he tortured people. Having not orgasmed in months now, you were on edge in practically every way. Irritable with baristas in the afternoons and people who looked at you too long on the street, unsmiling at security when they made their rounds each hour past your lab, snapping at inanimate objects that didn’t work properly.   

Lonely, desperate, and unable to bear it any longer, on the weekend you opened your closet and stared in longingly. With a huff you pulled a short black dress and brought it over your frame. You had this dress for way too long, outgrown this style a lifetime ago. The length hit the crest of your upper thigh, barely covering your ass when you walked. It fit snugly around you, the front covering you to your neck, then dropping low to an open back. You swung your hips as you looked in the mirror, flashes of your panties peeked through when the skirt rode too high.

With a halfhearted noise of approval you slipped on bright red heels, circling your lips in a matching shade. You grabbed a clutch and stared back at your empty living room to the spot where Reaper took you before you inhaled a deep breath and left for a bar down the street.

Sat few seats from the center you ordered the cocktail of the night. Your lips left stains on the glass as you sipped your drink and your eyes scanned the room. There were mostly groups here, college kids who were getting a little to rowdy in the corner, couples sitting close together and having quiet conversations, a woman consoling another who was openly crying. Then there were other lonely people who came just for the drink or just to be alone- you couldn’t tell which.

You told yourself you weren’t looking for anything amazing. You were just looking for someone warm who might be willing to choke you if you asked sweetly enough. Your eyes fell to one of the lonely guys who was nursing his third beer. You decided he looked like a man with nothing else to lose, bags under his eyes and chin covered in scruff, his face could have been anyones.

You slipped into the chair across from him, offering a beer you brought with you from the bar. He smirked at you with a tip of the glass, and that was all it took. As his head drew back to down the drink you rolled your eyes. Men are so easy.

Convinced he’d hit the jackpot, he followed you back to your condo. The nameless man kissed you like a slob and grabbed at your chest the moment you entered, you leaned against the door as his fingers fumbled their way over the top of your dress. Craving any sort of touch you moaned against him, willing to take what you could get.

His hands dropped, unknowingly running over the scars on your legs where Reapers claws cut you when he pulled your pants down months ago. His fingers moved, clumsily working at the zipper on the front of his pants. You grabbed his hand from between his legs and stepped back.

“Do you have protection?” The man shifted his eyes, letting out a puff of air shaking his head no. You sighed, annoyed, and walked to your bathroom. You dug through the drawers and opened your medicine cabinet, rifling through for a condom.

You lowered your hand without grabbing one as a very distinct cold feeling filled the room.

Breath caught in your throat, your eyes were wide and looking around. You shot out your bathroom and into the hallway to stare at the stranger you brought home.

“You need to leave.” Your heart was racing. The man turned to look at you. “Now. Right now.” He threw his hands in the air, giving you a look that said ‘what the fuck?’. You watched as his eyes cast above you and his face dropped, skin turning a sweaty pale as he almost fell backwards.

_“Leave.”_ Came Reapers voice, gravely and low behind you. Taloned fingers drummed over your shoulder, digits landing on your skin one by one and shining towards the man. He sputtered out curse words, scrambling to your door and slamming it behind you.   

Now in silence you shuttered under Reaper's touch, holding back scared gasps wondering if he was going to kill you for having another man over. His grip tightened, bladed ends grazing across the skin over your collar bone leaving thin cuts with beading drops of blood. You felt your body throb with need as you tried to breathe normally but couldn’t.

He slid off your shoulder and to your wrist, large hand holding yours and turned your scarred palm to face him.

“I thought I told you that you were _mine._ ” Your hand was trembling in his.

“I haven't seen or heard from you in months.” You retorted, knowing that was not the answer he was looking for.

“So you go out and bring home a street rat?” His mask pressed against the side of your face, he threw your hand away as he reached for the edge of your dress and his voice lowered to almost a whisper. “But he wouldn't be able to satisfy you, would he?” His claws curled into the fabric, fist ripping upwards bunching the dress around your waist. Your body caught itself in a scream, noise coming out as trembling moan instead when he wrapped his hand over your hip.

“Please, Reaper-” You swallowed hard.

“ _Beg._ ” You shuddered, wondering if he's been watching you desperately rubbing at yourself night after night with no success, and laughing at your misery when your body shuts down.

“I need you- I need you to touch me.” His gloved hand slowly made its way to your panties. Bladed fingers ghosted along the fabric between your legs, Reaper let out a low rumble against your back.

Carefully his fingers shifted, middle rubbing small circles over your covered swollen clit, sharp ends at his fingertip angled away to not cut you.

“Do whatever you want to me, please, I just need to feel you.” You leaned your body back against his hard chest. Gently you brought your hand over his between your legs and rested your fingers against the talons.  

“Do you still want me to hurt you?” His voice was low, frighteningly low.

“Yes, please.” You were practically crying, your head fell back hitting the shells strapped to him as you stared up. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, he drew his hand back bringing his palm against the side of your thigh. You stayed still, listening to his hard breathing beneath the mask trying to steady. His hand dropped off your body to his side.  

“I don’t want anyone else to touch you.” He sounded… hurt.

You turned your body facing him and slipped your arms beneath his cloak, around to his back in a hesitant loose hug. Unsure if you should apologize, or explain that no one else actually had, or tell him no one ever will. His arms lifted in the air hovering, but didn’t lower to touch you. You pressed your forehead against him, shaking your head and ignoring a thought that he seemed more like an alien than a man who needed altered genetics to stay alive.

He pulled back, walking past you into your living room and removed his cloak. You leaned against the wall watching him and pulled your dress back down to cover your panties. Reaper folded and draped his covering over the armrest, then piled his belts and weapons neatly on the cushion.

“I want to mark you.” He finally said. He was down to his mask, black combat outfit, gloves and boots. “Anytime you look at yourself, anytime someone else looks at you, I want a reminder that you belong to _only_ me.” Your body shivered. “Apparently your palm was not enough of a reminder.” His voice was dangerous, the feeling of his eyes on you beneath that mask made your stomach knot.  

“How do you want to mark me?” You pushed yourself from the wall, legs feeling weak.

“Do you trust me?”

“Completely.” Nothing was off limits with him, he knew that.

“Follow.” He turned, heading towards your kitchen. You entered as he was turning the dial on your stove, flames flickering up and burning into the air. He didn't turn to face you, instead he patted the counter top next to him. “Sit.”

You jumped up, seating yourself next to the open flame far enough away that you wouldn't accidentally burn yourself. His mask turned to you as he held his claws over the flame. Your breath hitched as you watched them heat. Your pulse beat in your neck, fear and desire trying to outrun each other.

“Push up your dress.” You did as you were told, bringing the edge to your hips.

“Is it going to hurt?”

“Excruciatingly.” His mask turned through to the room searching, he reached to a hand towel resting on your counter and placed it in your lap. “Fold that twice. You'll want to bite down on it. Make sure it gets to your back teeth.” With shaky hands you folded and carefully placed the cloth in your mouth.

He turned the flame off, bringing his metal claws in front of your face. You could feel the white heat radiating from them. He moved his body so he was directly in front of you, waist between your knees and he held his claws away from you to the side.

“Grab me. Anywhere. Just make sure you have a good grip.” You nodded, placing both hands on the exposed skin at his biceps, holding tight. “Ready?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded and took a final deep breath through your nose.

His hand came down curling around the top of your thigh. His metal claws seared into your skin as your body jerked but he held you tightly in place. You screamed through the towel in your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut and gripped his arms until your nails dug into his skin enough to draw blood.  

What you didn’t expect was the rush you felt through your body, pleasure racking through to every nerve end, it made your head dizzy. Through the mask he was counting under his breath, releasing your leg at five.

Immediately he tore his gloves off, placing the scorching metal on the stove, away from you. You screamed and cried out into the towel, hitting your head hard against his chest as your leg started shaking.

He wrapped his arms around you, pressing you against his body and holding you tight while you twitched in a twisted mix of pleasure and pain. Your head felt like it was floating, the room like it was spinning around you. Your muffled voice rumbled against him and he pulled back. Nails still hooked in his skin, he carefully removed the cloth from your mouth. Your eyes stared at him, almost all black from blown pupils, your skin paled.

“Reaper-” Your voice sounded far away, your eyes unfocused and lids fluttering in a struggle to stay open. “I think I’m going to pass out.” You managed to get out before crashing forward onto him and back into his arms.

* * *

 

When you woke you were in your bed, body laid out above the comforter, still in your dress. With a groan of pain you reached down to your thigh, fingertips met by soft bandages. Your eyes searched the room for any sign of Reaper, finding none.

You dropped your heavy head to the pillow and let out a sob. It was so unfair how he could pop into your life like this, ruin you and leave you. You would have been just fine being a lonely lab technician, living life on the night shift and having normal sex with average people.

You weren’t sure if you started crying because of the pain on your leg or the thought of how much you wished Reaper had stayed, but you didn’t even try to stop the gasping breaths as tears fell down the sides of your face.

“Was it too much?” A voice came from your doorway. You snapped up, tears immediately stopping and sat on the edge of the bed, shocked.

He was in the hallway just next to your door, sat on the ground leaning against the wall. In the shadows and partially covered by the door frame you could see his boots and gloves were off, hands wringing in his lap. You couldn’t see his head, but his voice wasn’t muffled like it normally was and his mask was laid against the ground next to him.  

“No.” You breathed out, eyes unable to rip away from the mask. “I’m excited to see what it looks like when it heals.” You waited for his response, for a dark chuckle or a witty comment, but he stayed silent.

You slid off the edge of your bed and onto your still shaking legs. He reached for the mask, placing a large hand over it as he listened to you make your way to the door. You stopped when he started lifting it from the floor, his arm pausing when you did. Not wanting to spook him, you brought yourself to the ground before the threshold, sitting just outside of view from his face.

“Why did you disappear for so long?” Your voice was soft, hoping the question wouldn’t scare him into smoke. He lowered the mask to the ground again.

“Business.” He blurted out, then paused for a while before continuing. “In another country. We just got back in today.”

“We?”

“Talon.” He growled.

“Oh.” Was all you could respond with. Of course it was Talon. You almost wanted to bash your head against the wall, this whole time you thought he was purposefully avoiding you, or secretly watching you, trying to torture you. It was a hard reminder that he had a life outside of what he did to you.

“I couldn’t find anything for you to take for the pain.” His voice came from the hall. He must have found the bandages and ointment cream tucked away in the back of a drawer in your bathroom.

“That’s okay, I can pick something up from the pharmacy down the street.” Your leg ached with pain and behind your forehead was dully pulsing, you were going to have to make that trip soon. You wondered how long it’s been since Reaper has been in a pharmacy, or any store for that matter, how long he’s been a man hiding behind a mask. It was difficult to imagine him waiting patiently in line with an arm full of first aid supplies while casually perusing the magazines with clawed fingers.

“Does it hurt right now?” His face leaned towards the door frame and you saw a shadow covered profile of his face, your heart skipped a few beats as you tried to make out his features.

“Yes, but I can manage.” You stared down at your leg, the bandages were cut and taped with precision. He must have had a lot of practice with that.

Next to his mask where his hand laid you could see light trails of smoke lifting off his skin. You sucked in a breath fearing he was leaving and dove forward, placing your hands over his.

“Don’t go-!” You cried, now bent forward and pressing your forehead to the top of your hand, your body folded over and shooting pain radiating from the burns on your thighs.

“I’m not leaving.” His harsh voice came above you as he snatched his hand away with his mask. He held it to his face but didn’t put it on and you pushed against the ground until you were sitting up.

“But the smoke-”

“A side effect from not taking the serum for so long.” He was careful not to move his head, mask staying perfectly in front of it. A look of concern spread across your face.

“I won’t be able to get you in there until Monday.” About two days away, you were afraid he would fade away by then.

“I know. I was hoping I could stay here. Until then.” He clicked his mask over his head into place, lowered voice returning. You nodded your head, trying to hide your elation. 

“Of course. Anything you need.”

He stood, then helped you to your feet. Your body winced in pain, moving around was almost unbearable, you needed to get something to relieve the pain right now. When you were up you clicked on the hall light and looked at him. The nail marks you dug into him earlier had already closed up and scarred over in the short amount of time you were out. You placed a hand over the marks.

“I’m going to go to the pharmacy.” Your fingers tightened around him. “You’ll really still be here when I get back?” He cupped your chin in his hand and lifted until you brought your eyes to his mask.

“Yes. Hurry back.”

* * *

 

With a change into more comfortable and covering clothes you hurried out the door and down to the 24 hour pharmacy. You grabbed pain and fever relievers, burn ointment and bandages and a small water. As you stood next to the candy at check out you wondered if he liked sweets, or if he ate anything at all. Everything felt surreal, especially now that it was hitting you that you were technically harboring a criminal wanted in almost every known country for crimes ranging from theft to murder and you were pondering if he liked almond joys or not.

Before you left the store you popped one of the pain relievers, hoping to feel at least a little better by the time you got back to the condo. With every step your leg felt a less pained, a little less strained. It felt a world better by the time you got back to your front door.

Reaper was on the couch next to the large pile of his armor and weapons when you entered, and you exhaled a held breath at the sight of him. He stood and turned to face you, the scarf he blinded you with last time in his fist. You placed the paper bag in your arms on the ground as you shut the door behind you.  

“If you’re feeling up to it.” He said, holding the scarf towards you.

You were suddenly reminded that you hadn’t cum in over two months and you raced towards him pulling off your shirt and bra, dropping your pants and underwear before you could even respond. You crashed into his body, sending him back onto the couch below and you straddled his lap.

He dropped the scarf to the cushion and brought a large hand to your throat, pressing but not squeezing.

“First, tell me-” He ran his other hand over the bandages on your leg. “Did you sleep with anyone while I was gone?”

“N-No, tonight was the only time I’ve even thought about-” His grip tightened and you sucked in a breath.   

“If you’re lying to me-”

“Please Reaper-” You strained, bringing your hands over his at your throat and he loosened his grip. “I can’t even get myself off anymore, I need you. You’re the only one I need.”

You could feel him pressed tightly against his pants, you sat in his lap and pushed against him. His hand dropped to your chest, fingers running over your pierced nipples and pulling gently. His mask looked to the side, and he brought the scarf up to your eyes.

You sighed out shaky breaths as he tied it around your head, blocking out all light and sight. Beneath you he pushed off his pants and pulled off his shirt, keeping you spread over his lap. He was hard and hot against your stomach, now freed from his pants, and you angled yourself to rub your clit against his length. He let you rock against him, a hand gently placed at your lower back.

Then his mouth was on you, sucking in the same place he left a hickey before. You moaned against him, hugging at his head, almost on the verge of crying from happiness. He moved his hips, lining himself with your wet entrance then plunged in. You gasped loud against his head, running your fingers through short curly hair. Against his skull you could feel long deep scars, one coming down to the back of his neck.

He snapped in you, punching his hips up and bouncing you hard in his lap. His lips wandered, rough kisses mixed with light bites across your neck and over your shoulders. God, you wanted to kiss him, but you didn’t want to scare him away like last time.

“Hands behind you.” He demanded as your fingers followed the scar down his neck. You twisted your shoulders until your hands were together at your lower back. He gripped both your wrists, locking them in place as you rode against him.

The coil in your stomach was burning hot, already tight from so many ruined nights. You were panting hard against him, walls pulsing and wiggling in his lap. You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to the hollow of his neck and whined high with every thrust.

His other hand at your wounds gently squeezed, testing your tolerance for the pain. You stopped moving, wincing under his touch.

“Uhhuhh.” Shaking your head against him you groaned. He lifted his hand, and brought it to your chest instead, rubbing his thumb along the bar in your nipple. You sighed and slowly started bouncing again, eliciting a deep moan from him.

He played with you like this, one hand at your nipple the other holding your hands behind you and he leaned back. He studied the way your body moved above his, the noises you made when he ran his fingers over you. He was going hard in you, and your body was starting to feel the effects of stretching with no warm up.

“I’m not going to last much longer.” You breathed against him, stomach pulsing and inner thighs twitching against his hips. He moved his hands to hold you by your waist, helping your tired body and sore leg continue over your peak. You leaned back letting him balance you, gasping as your orgasm hit, the warm tingling spreading from your scalp to your toes and you shook against him.

You felt his body shift, and softly against your bottom lip you felt his rapid breath. Wrists now free, you ran your fingers on each side of his head, fingers tangling through his curls. His armor and weapons clattered to the ground from the movement on the couch.

Your body drummed against him and almost knocked you to the floor when his lips crashed against yours. Rough facial hair scratched at you when you moved your face against his, choking for air between your orgasm and his lips occupying yous. You could feel his grunts, taste the passion on his lips. His kiss overtook you, brought you deeper into him than you’d ever imagined you could be. Your body offered final twitches, deep contractions against him as you were finally getting the release you’d been denied for so long.

As yours walls unclenched themselves, you could feel his warm liquid slowly pooling down around him. With a shaky last kiss he lifted you, helping you to sit onto the couch. Body exhausted and shivering you laid against it catching your breath, knowing better than to try taking off the blindfold this time.

As you laid there you felt his hands run over your skin, fingers gently massaging at your wrists where they felt like they were going to bruise over from his grip. His touch left for a moment, and when it returned he was helping you into your clothes. He slid your panties back on carefully over your injured thigh, slipped your shirt back over your head and helped your arms through the holes.

You heard him putting on his own clothes, and the soft sound of the mask clicking back on before his hands were at your head, undoing the knot holding the scarf in place.

“We should change these bandages.” His deep voice came from behind the mask. You nodded back, following him hand in hand to the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I just couldn't stay away from this one, I love me some scary and sensitive Reaper. ( ͡◉ ͜ʖ ͡◉)


	23. Hand Jobs, Jesse McCree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: While Overwatch/Blackwatch is operating  
> Notes: Coworker dynamic, no warnings :)

Casual. You needed to keep your demeanor calm, cool, and casual if you didn't want to get caught. It’s a long drive back to base, but with so many agents crammed into one SUV, you were happy to be stuck with the last row of seats with the extra backpacks and the handsome cowboy. Driver up front with eyes glued to the road, humming along to a song playing softly, and Commander Reyes in the passenger seat scrolling through his communicator, everyone else was asleep leaned against the backs of their seats and curling their necks to be comfortable for the ride. 

Agent McCree had other plans. He held your hand in his, placing it on his thigh and letting you follow the seam of his pants. You tried to quiet your breathing as you carefully watched the heads in front of you making sure no one suddenly turned around. As slowly and covertly as possible, you worked your fingers around his pants button and slid his zipper down, staying silent.  

You leaned your head on his shoulder, should anyone look back it would look like you just fell asleep on him. Carefully, you wrapped your hand around him. He was warm as you started pumping, his cock hardening in your hand. He gulped back a moan, wanting to be loud under your touch.  Your eyes fell to his lap, covered in shadow when street lights didn’t zoom by the windows, you only got brief glimpses of the girth in your hands. Trying not to move too much or make too much noise you slowly glided up and down his shift, rolling your palm over his soft head each time you reached the tip. 

He was trying to steady his breathing, trying not to make it obvious that you were jacking him off in the backseat of a mission vehicle because he just couldn’t wait until you were back on base. The way you looked at him, the way you moved during missions, it drove him fucking crazy. He swore sometimes that you purposefully arched your back just a little too much, left your lips parted so he could picture his cock between them, grazed against him just enough to tease him. You’d never admit to that, of course, but still he saw the way you continued to flirt with him while you were out in the field.  

You were working him harder now, faster as you felt his pulse racing. His hand lazily laid in his lap, feeling your fingers pump over him with every pass. His head dropped behind him onto the seat back, eyes squeezed closed. He was coming undone in your hands, dying to squirm in his seat or let a moan rip from his throat.  

Instead he opted to crash his lips against yours, kissing you hard and breathing, almost panting, as you twisted around him. He let his hand wander to your chest, cupping the outside of your shirt and feeling the curve of your body in his palm, god he wanted to take you right here. 

He was twitching against you, pulsing and hips gently pushing with your movements. You squeezed him, and moved your mouth to his neck, kissing his blushing skin and making your way to his ear where you sucked gently on the lobe.  Your hand ran over his tip, then back down and you felt a familiar throb. With your other hand you reached over, covering his tip as he came hot against your palm. You pumped him as he came, his teeth biting down on his lower lip and holding back heavy breaths. 

He handed you a small hand towel you normally used to wipe your sweat away with during practice, and you grazed it over him, cleaning every bit before stuffing it in your bag to wash later, satisfied you got away with it.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super duper short one! This is actually the shortest one of all my Kinktober one shots, but I'm getting close to being done!


	24. Scars, Soldier 76

It started casually, his deep voice rumbling flirtations between bullets, touches that dragged along his arm when you felt his muscles, going out of your way to find each other if you knew you'd be on mercenary contracts in the same city. It started with playful innuendos about how big the gun he carried around was, with ‘accidentally’ falling into him, with grinding against his rock hard body when the fights were over. There was something scary about him, something mysterious about not knowing the man behind the mask.

The first time he pressed your face against a wall in a dirty alleyway and tore down your pants to your knees, you almost came just from that. He rammed into you and held you by the throat from behind as he made you moan over and over again. There were no names shared, no boring personal stories. That's how you did it, that's how he liked it. Anonymous. Clothes on. Quick and dirty. City after city you’d run into him and wrap your legs around his hips in the bathrooms of dimly lit gas stations, drop to your knees behind trees in parks. You’d run your hand through his graying hair and wonder what face he made when he was grunting above you, hidden behind an emotionless red glow. On every disgusting floor and against every brick siding, neither of you ever took the time to really get to know each other, it was always just the unzipping of his pants, the dropping of yours, then off the races you went.

So when you stood in front of him, carefully unzipping his leather jacket until it popped off at the bottom, he froze. He didn’t move to stop you, didn’t move his head to encourage you, he stood absolutely still as you pushed the jacket from his shoulders. It was heavier than you were anticipating, hitting the ground with an audible thunk and sending a small dust cloud into the air of the abandoned hideout he met you in. Usually he would have held you to the floor by now, been buried deep and making you scream, but you hoped to change the pace this time.

He helped your hands to the edge of his shirt, pulling it over his head for you since you couldn't get it off without climbing him. Without a top on you gasped when you saw him. Scars, everywhere. Skin absolutely riddled with them. Long deep ones that looked like they belonged on a dead man, scars of crude stitches that apparently couldn’t wait for proper medical treatment. Short thin ones that looked like they could either be from knife fights or cat scratches. Raised ones that ran along his arms and chest, deep brown ones that were fading from years ago. It almost knocked the wind out of you. The shit he must have been through, all the injuries done to him, by all your calculations he should be well beyond being able to stand, let alone being able to fight.  

His muscles tensed under your touch as you ran your fingers along the hard lines of his body. Usually hidden under that jacket, you were almost surprised to see the tone he had. You could see when his breathing hitched, the ripples through his body with every shudder. His hands were rough with you, moving quickly, but unsure, as he slid your outfit off you. This time you led him to the ground and climbed on top of him, letting your hands wander over the raised marks. He almost seemed to not know what to do with you, his palms hovering over your legs, too scared or hesitant to touch you like a lover would. You leaned down over him, pressing your lips to his neck, letting your hair fall to the side. His breathing beneath the mask was muffled, but you could hear him panting.

“Would you tell me about any of these?” You asked, sitting back up and dragging a finger along the longest one on his chest. Your entrance was pressed against him, tip just on the verge of pushing past.

“You don’t really want me to bore you with war stories.”  

Impatient as always he snapped his hips against you, and you twitched as he filled you. Your hands rested against his mask, desperately wanting to rip it off and see the man beneath. He wrapped his fingers around your hands, pulling them away.

“The mask stays on.” His gruff voice pushed out as you slowly bounced in his lap. You cocked your head to the side and rolled your eyes.

“You know, I bet you're pretty handsome under that thing. You’ve got a silver fox kind of vibe.” You circled your hips, twisting around until his hands grabbed your thighs roughly. He sat up, pressing your chest to his.

“You calling me old?”

“Maybe.” You bit your lip, hoping to provoke him into manhandling you.

With his strong arms he wrapped your legs around his hips and stood, bringing you in the air and filling you deep. You let out a long moan as you dropped your head back. He moved you to the windowsill, placing the curve of your ass against it, then pounded into you at a rapid pace. Your shoulder blades pushed against cold glass, your forehead against the side of his neck. You wrapped your arms around him, fingers digging into the skin of his back. He let out a hard groan as your nails left red trails.

“You trying to add more scars?” He snapped hard into you. “You’re going to have to try a little harder.” You gasped as he hilted again and again, your hands no longer focused on him, but hovered behind him unable to even grab hold.

He set his pace, thrusting in you as you tried to catch your breath, your fingers fell to the long scar across his chest again.

“Tell me about this one.” You breathed out between moans. He was grunting, holding your hips hard against him. You heard a low rumble in his chest.

“A building fell on me.” His voice was angry, sharp.

You got the message loud and clear. He doesn’t want to talk about this, not with you, not here, not now. Your fingers played with the edges of the mask, eyes focusing in on the scar peaking over on his forehead. His hands slid up your sides until he was gripping you by the waist. Your legs were twitching around his hips, breaths catching in the air as he drove into you chasing his own high. Above the mask you could see lines forming, his hidden eyebrows furrowing as the red glow lit your body.

You hummed and leaned forward, placing kisses at the edge of the scar, then moved to his neck. You panted against his skin, lips grazing over his pulse. With every thrust your kisses became rougher, messier, until you were sinking your teeth against him. He leaned his face away to give you a better angle, to make sure his mask wouldn’t hit you as you sucked and licked greedily. One of your hands wandered to his hair, gripping him at the base.

He was getting close, his movements becoming faster and harder. The fingers at your center held you tight, held you in place as he pounded your back against the glass. You moaned, drawing back and letting the back of your head bounce lightly behind you, just careful enough not to hit it on the glass. He was pulsing in you, driving you crazy between pressing your back against the cold and his warm body lighting your nerves on fire. Part of you wished he would at least lift up his mask enough to expose his lips, you wanted them on you, biting at your ear, sucking at your nipples, wanted something more than he was willing to give.

You dragged your nails down his chest, through the light hair leaving claw marks all the way down. His body twitched as you dug against his skin, he let out a moan that sounded more like a growl, and your body rocked against him in response. He leaned his head to the side again, exposing his skin to you.

“More.” His voice was deep, demanding.

You happily obliged, rounding your face back to him, returning your lips to his neck. As you gave him a second hickey you could hear him mumbling incoherently behind his mask, saying something about your mouth, about your body. It made you shiver against him as he snapped into you then pulled out with a gasp.

He came across your thighs, against your belly button. As his hips jerked with his orgasm you bit down again, with a final hard suck you released him with a pop. The side of his neck had two growing dark red spots, standing out against his pale skin. Your teeth marks still showed atop of them, his skin wet and shining against the glowing of his mask. Good thing he always covered his neck in that uniform of his, you weren’t sure how seriously enemies would take him if they saw the marks.

His hands released you, your body shaking against the glass still waiting for your own release. He wiped the spit from his neck and turned to gather his clothes.

“Gotta run.” He turned away from you as he hopped into his pants.

Quick and dirty. You didn’t mind being used like this, but he was clearly mad at you for pushing about his scars and expected you to finish on your own.

Next time you’ll stick to the formula, drop your pants and put your hands behind you, then maybe he’ll help you get off.  

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at [hostilewitness-ao3](https://hostilewitness-ao3.tumblr.com/)! :)


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